


A Comparable Status - Part 2 of the 'Comparable' series

by TheLoneRebels



Series: The Comparables [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Draco catches Ginny with Snape, Draco's Life Sucks, F/M, Ginny gets her reward, Ginny has an epiphany, Maybe Draco's OOC but I don't care, Multi, Only so much Draco can take, Poor Ron is my scapegoat, Severus puts on a Strip Tease, Snape is so Helpful, Spying is Fun, magical soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneRebels/pseuds/TheLoneRebels
Summary: Draco's been given an ultimatum by his father and he doesn't like it one bit. In an effort to bypass said ultimatum, he hopes to enlist the aid of a certain redhead and gets more than he expected. After helping set up Hermione with Professor Snape in the most enjoyable way possible, Ginny is open to new possibilities she'd never thought of before. Not for fanatic Ron or Harry fans.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape/Ginny Weasley
Series: The Comparables [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629241
Comments: 84
Kudos: 134





	1. The Letter

**Hello there!**

**Thank you all soooooo much for checking out my story! If you like it, it's very inspiring to me if you let me know in some way, and thank you in advance for every kudos, sub, or nice review; they're my own version of caffeine. :D :D :D :D :D**

**For those who really wish I would write a one shot of their idea or would just really like to see a certain story bump up to the top of my rotation, check out the pinned post on my Facebook page, TheLoneRebel's Stories, for info. You can also find my updating schedule there and blurbs from some of my chapters. :D**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters and any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental.**

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**A/N: In this story, Draco is 19, **Hermione is a few months short of 20 (or actually is, if you consider time-turner use), and Ginny is a month shy of 18 (but as we all know, 17 is considered the age of majority in the Wizarding world, so everyone is a consenting adult. :D) Severus is 39 but can pass for at least 10 years younger because he's such a powerful wizard. The Severus in my head is still played by Alan Rickman, but a much younger version. (He was about 55 years old when he made the first movie.) This brilliant actor was bloody gorgeous as a young man (seriously, google his pics if you don't believe me) and was still worth a look or twenty in his later years. (He will be forever missed and adored.) Alternatively, Adrien Brody or Adam Driver also make good thirties looking Snapes if you'd like to picture either of them instead. :D****

* * *

** A Comparable Status **

** Part 2 of the ‘Comparable’ series **

**The Letter:**

_July 23, 1999_

Two hours after receiving what he was now calling ‘The Letter of Doom’ from his father, Draco Malfoy was still fuming.

He’d read it over so many times at breakfast that he’d actually run out of time to eat, which, of course, meant that his stomach was making itself known with embarrassing rumbles. He’d then stomped his way to Transfiguration class and read it over about a thousand more times, grateful that the school year was over and that the boring and barely competent McGonagall replacement hadn’t cared a jot about what they did on their last day of class.

Now, he was storming his way down to the dungeons to sit through one last Potions class before he was permanently free of this hellhole of an existence known as school, and then he could move on with his life, pathetic as it was. He was in such a foul mood that the other students literally jumped out of the way for him, but he barely noticed. He tried not to notice their reactions to him anymore, anyway.

Ever since it had become public knowledge that he was (had been) a Death Eater and all of the associated acts of violence he’d been forced to do had come to light during his trial, the other students had treated him like he might go mental and start hexing pieces off of them at any given moment. Not even his fellow Slytherins would hang out with him anymore. Pansy had publicly dumped his ass on the first day back to school for their Eighth Year. Blaise wouldn’t talk to him even though they’d been best friends since First Year. The First and Second Years of every House ran the other way when they saw him coming, which hurt more than he was willing to admit.

In a school that used to be his domain of power, he was now the pariah.

It was bloody awful.

He would have quit long ago if his father hadn’t threatened to disinherit him if he didn’t finish the year and pass his NEWTs with a minimum grade of an Exceeds Expectations in every subject.

He had done that and more, at least, thank Circe. (Not quite as many Outstandings as Granger, but he’d given up trying to actually beat her, grade wise, years ago.)

Now, his loving and oh-so-considerate father had given him another ultimatum and Draco was seriously considering taking a portkey to Hollywood, America to audition for a Muggle movie, just to spite him. With his looks and terror inspired, more than well honed, acting skills, Draco was positive he’d easily get a part and his father would probably go ballistic at the disgrace to the family name.

It would be the perfect revenge.

But…

Draco just couldn’t do that to him.

Despite all of the poor showings of affection and the pure-blood ideals that had caused Draco years of hell under the Dark Lord’s rule, Lucius Malfoy actually did love Draco and only wanted what was best for him.

He just had a crappy way of showing it.

Like this morning’s letter.

 _Which means I’ll have to do as he asks,_ he sighed to himself as he dropped his bookbag on the floor and flopped into his usual seat at the back corner of Severus Snape’s potions classroom. _Somehow._

_Maybe Uncle Sev can help me? He’s always full of good advice. I’d be dead a dozen times over by now if it weren’t for him._

As other students started to meander into the room in happily chattering groups and take their seats, Draco pulled the many folded square of parchment out of his pocket and smoothed it out on his desk and read it again. (Not that he actually needed to see it to know the contents, which were ingrained on his brain like poisoned ink, but there was always the faint hope that he’d misread it the first thousand times or so.)

**Draco,**

**Last week, I received a very interesting letter from my father’s old friend, Nicolai Delakov. It seems he is looking for a match for his youngest daughter. After much thought, I agree that a marriage between our families would benefit us both. As you know, Delakov is expected to ascend to Minister of Magic for Russia when Vasiliev retires next year, and having a strong connection to the Russian Ministry is never a bad thing.**

**I know this might seem rather sudden, but your future has been on my mind a lot lately.**

**Ever since our disgrace with British Wizarding society, all of your former possible matches with an English witch of a comparable pure-blood status to our own have disappeared like so much smoke, much to my disgust. And I refuse to taint our bloodline with half-blood or (shudder) muggle-born heirs.**

**In short, unless you can magically (not literally) produce another witch that I can meet and approve of by the Leaving Feast tonight, I will write to Delakov tomorrow and accept his offer on your behalf. You can spend the summer in Russia getting to know your fiancé and then we’ll have the wedding here at the Manor in the fall.**

**The picture included with this letter is of the woman in question. Her name is Katja and she’s 24. I know that’s 5 years older than you, but with your maturity level, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.**

**We can discuss any questions you may have at the Feast tonight,**

**Your father.**

Snarling, Draco crumpled up the letter in his fist until his knuckles turned white. _Fuck!_

His father had literally cornered him with this one. And that bit about his maturity level at the end was a not-so-subtle warning to take this like a man and smile like the emotional kick to the scrotum was exactly what he wanted to happen.

It wasn’t.

_I’d rather go celibate for the rest of my life than marry that witch. What’s so horrible about a half-blood or a muggle-born anyway? They can be just as powerful as the pure-bloods. Just look at Uncle Sev and Granger. I’m sure I could find someone to marry eventually that is willing to overlook my past. Might have to go to bloody America to do it, but it could be done. I’m only nineteen for fuck’s sake! I don’t want to get married yet! And definitely not to Katja Delakov._

He forced himself to unclench his fist and smoothed out the letter again so he could refold it. Then he shoved it back into his trouser pocket and pulled out the picture that had ended up in a robe pocket. He grimaced and shuddered as he looked at it, and then shoved it back into the pocket, wishing he could Vanish it into oblivion a hundred times over.

_Why couldn’t the witch be at least half decently attractive? I could live with this if she was, but she looks like a fucking thestral! All bones and long nose and stringy black hair._

_Actually, she reminds me of Uncle Sev during the last year of the war when he was on the verge of expiring just from the stress of keeping the students alive and Voldemort happy._

_Merlin. I think that’s even worse!_

_I do NOT want to shag a barely female version of my godfather._

_No wonder Delakov is scraping the bottom of the barrel to find a match for her. Merlin’s balls!_

_And whose fault is it that I’m now the bottom of the marriage mart barrel?_

_Father’s. Or maybe even Grandfather’s. If even one of them had changed sides before the very end, like Uncle Sev, and did the spy thing instead, we’d be heroes instead of outcasts who barely escaped a life in Azkaban._

_If only there WAS another pure-blood witch for…_

His thoughts trailed off as a soft, feminine giggle wafted from the doorway of the classroom. And then the owner of the giggle strolled into the room backwards, her bookbag hugged to her chest as she smiled at whatever Granger had said to make her laugh. Her autumn red hair shimmered in the light as it fell around her shoulders and down her back, and her brown eyes flashed almost gold as she walked through one of the few rays of natural light that managed to creep in from the tiny windows near the ceiling. Her smile was brilliant and lit up her pretty features in a way he’d never noticed before.

_Holy shite!_

Draco was suddenly struck dumb as he came to the long overdue realization that Ginevra Weasley was actually quite beautiful.

_And… she’s a pure-blood! A Weasley pure-blood, but a pure-blood nonetheless._

_Merlin’s pants! She could be the solution to my problem! She’s not attached to Potter anymore, and I haven’t heard anything about her dating anyone else._

_The only problem will be convincing her that I’m a good match for her in the next… six or so hours._

_Ha. Like that’s ever going to happen._

_My life is over._

_Maybe Katja Delakov is better looking in person?_

_As if. I’m not that lucky._

Draco thumped his head down on his desk and closed his eyes in resignation.

_Merlin, please, kill me now._

* * *

**A/N: I know, this is short. But as an intro to Draco’s story, this is what you get. :D**


	2. Potions Class

**A/N: And we're back with more fluffy Draco angst! The following scene also contains a scene from the first chapter of 'A Comparable Nose' but from Draco's POV, obviously. If you haven't read that one yet, you'll probably want to, just our of sheer curiosity by the time you're done this one. :P**

**And just as a warning for future chapters, this story will overlap with it's prequel a few more times, but I'll try not to rehash too much. :D**

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**Potions Class:**

BANG!

Draco popped up to attention at the slamming of the door.

His godfather, performing one of his impressive entrances that never got old, strode into the room like a dark archangel, his robe flaring behind him in the wake of his own momentum. As he moved up the central isle of large desks, his deep, no-nonsense voice said, “You are to write a twenty-four inch essay on the pros and cons of common, everyday type potions that are generally found in a typical Wizarding household.” He spun on the ball of a foot upon reaching his desk, robes flaring wide, and scowled at them. “You have exactly one hour and thirty minutes to turn in your complete essay, or you will lose five points for your House. But, as an added incentive, the five best essays will receive points FOR their Houses.” One last sweeping glare, and then he seated himself behind his desk with a firm, “Begin.”

As a whole, the class knew better than to groan out loud, but Draco knew he wasn’t the only one thinking that Professor Severus Snape could be a first-class tyrant and a royal pain in the ass. They also knew to expect to have to work all the way to the bitter end, having come prepared with fresh quills and parchment.

Everyone, that is, except for the Intrepid Imbeciles (Uncle Sev’s name for them that Draco had adopted years ago), who had somehow managed to bumble their way through school with Granger’s help, and defeat Voldemort, also with Granger’s help. (Girl was disgustingly brilliant and talented.)

“But it’s the last day of school!” the Weasel whinged from the other side of the classroom from Draco. “We’ve already taken our NEWTs. We shouldn’t have to do any more essays!”

_An accurate complaint that I’m sure we’re all thinking, but this is SNAPE we’re talking about. Of course we’re going to do essays until the last minute of school. Only an idiot would say it out loud._

Draco barely held in the snigger when his godfather nearly echoed his thoughts.

“Really, Mr. Weasley?” Uncle Sev’s tone all but dripped with dry-as-a-hundred-year-old-virgin contempt. “You’ve attended my class for how many years now and you don’t know that you’ll be expected to WORK while here? I could say that I’m disappointed, but that would be a lie, because I honestly expect no better from you.”

_Ouch._

The Weasel made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl, and then bravely soldiered on like the moronic Gryffindor he was. “But I didn’t bring my bag. And neither did Harry. We have nothing to write with.” Weasley jumped as Potter hissed and apparently, and justifiably, kicked him in the leg for adding his name to the mess.

Draco’s (and the rest of the class’s) very entertained gaze flew back to Snape to see his reaction to this.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Uncle Sev’s scowl deepened to nearly epic proportions and the temperature in the room dropped at least a dozen degrees as his magic snapped with anger. His robes and hair started to float and lash on their own as he rose to his feet again and planted his hands on his desk. He suddenly looked like the Death Eater that had managed to survive as one of the Dark Lord’s lucky (yeah right) favourites because of how powerful and intimidating he could be when he wanted.

Some of the students actually started to visibly tremble. (Cough, cough, Longbottom.)

Draco smirked proudly. _You show em, Uncle Sev._

“I see.” Snape’s voice was even colder than the already frigid dungeon classroom. “Five points each, for being unprepared. And another five to Mr. Weasley for questioning my assignment.” His gaze settled on Granger, sitting in the front row as close to his desk as she could get (the suck up), and his expression softened fractionally. “Miss Granger. I trust you can supply your… friends… with adequate supplies?”

“Of course, Professor,” she said sweetly, not intimidated by him at all.

She never had been, even when the rest of the world believed he was a heartless murderer. Draco had always reluctantly admired her for her courage. And hated her for it, too, for a while, along with her smarts and her talent at magic, because it had made him feel inadequate. And no Malfoy should ever feel inadequate. Or so his grandfather’s portrait loved to tell him on a nearly daily basis.

Draco had since learned that a bit of humility doesn’t hurt as much as one would think.

“I always have extras,” Granger continued with. Draco could only see a small portion of her face from his location at the back of the room, but it was enough to see the huge smile she gave Snape before she leaned down to start digging in her bookbag. _Teacher’s Pet till the very last day. What a surprise._

_Not._

Uncle Sev’s mouth actually twitched upwards for half a millisecond. Draco doubted anyone else noticed it. “Very good, Miss Granger.” He sat back down and busied himself with a stack of scrolls already on his desk, presumably from the last class.

Her head snapped up and the class gawped at him, including Draco. _Did he just COMPLIMENT Granger?!_

_Uncle Sev never compliments anyone! Not even me! Maybe he’s actually starting to soften up again now that the war is over?_

Snape looked up again, frowning fiercely at the lot of them, not even sparing Draco or Granger. “One hour and twenty-six minutes.”

The classroom practically erupted in a flurry of movement.

_Never mind._

* * *

Fifty-five minutes later, Draco was finished his essay, but he knew better than to show it. So, after reading it again quickly, looking for mistakes and finding none, he used the wand tucked up his sleeve to discreetly make the last quarter of the essay invisible, just in case Snape made a circuit of the room like he’d already done twice before. And then he pretended to write while letting his mind wander back to his predicament with the arranged marriage his father was forcing on him.

Or more specifically, how he could possibly win over one Ginny Weasley in the next five hours.

_Actually earning her affection is probably impossible considering that she thinks I’m a right berk. But maybe I can appeal to her sympathetic side and talk her into at least posing as my girlfriend until I can come up with a better solution?_

He glanced over towards the girl in question, but only received a view of her long red hair as she bent her head towards Granger. It appeared that they were done their essays as well, but had elected to gossip instead of pretending to write.

_Big mistake. Uncle Sev is going to eat them alive any minute now._

Three seconds later, Snape looked up from his marking, scowling deeply. “Miss Granger. Miss Weasley,” he snapped.

_Called it!_

“If you have time to talk, you have time to write an additional nine inches of essay for me.” Snape flicked his wand towards their desk and Draco could almost feel their outrage as their scrolls were lengthened.

But like the smart girls they were, they merely mumbled, “Yes, Professor Snape,” and bent their heads to their task.

Draco couldn’t help the snicker that escaped; it was just so nice to see Granger get in trouble.

Snape shot him a scathing look, which Draco rolled his eyes at after ducking his head back down obediently. _Merlin, I can’t wait until he’s not my teacher anymore. I miss our relationship from before I started school. It was so much better when I didn’t have to pretend that he was a royal bastard all the time. I miss when he used to smile at me instead of sneer. He’s still stuck in Professor Snape mode even when he visits the Manor. It’s bloody awful. It’s like he can’t turn it off anymore._

_I miss Uncle Sev._

_But on the other hand, at least he’s the only one who doesn’t treat Granger like a princess. Although, I think he could have been a bit harsher. He should have made Granger and The Weaslette write another foot of essay. Nine inches is too lenient._

_He would have made ME write another foot of essay._

Ever since it had been revealed that Granger had been so fundamental to the end of Voldemort’s reign of terror, the entire world seemed to worship at her feet, most especially Headmistress McGonagall and the teachers of Hogwarts. They acted like she could do no wrong and it drove him up the wall.

Honestly, if he hadn’t already known that she was genius level smart, he’d suspect that her perfect grades had been given out of gratitude instead of hard work.

 _Speaking of good grades_ … Draco turned his shuttered gaze to the Weaslette again. He’d heard through the Hogwarts rumour mill that she’d received just as many Outstandings as he had. It hadn’t meant much to him at the time, other than to inspire a passing hint of surprise. But now, it was just one more point in her favour towards winning over his father’s approval as a possible match for him.

Even if it was just temporary until Draco found someone real that his father could approve of.

She was also very talented and powerful at magic, if her survival during the war was any indication. He knew for a fact that she’d faced and survived multiple Death Eaters, including the worst of them all, his psychotic Aunt Bellatrix.

Add the above to the fact that she was bloody good at Quidditch, which he knew first hand from playing against her all year, and you have a recipe for a very desirable witch, genetics wise. Even though he generally spent most of his time focusing on Potter as they both looked for the snitch, it was hard to miss the red-haired dynamo as she flew around the pitch and scored point after point for Gryffindor.

_And for Merlin’s sake, how did I not notice that she was stunningly good looking before? Is it because of my past prejudice against anything Weasley? Is it because she was Potter’s and I just automatically looked down on anything he was involved in or with? Is it because she’s a pain in the arse Gryffindor?_

_Probably all of those._

_I AM an idiot._

_All these months, she’s been free, and I could have been trying to win her over, even if it was just to take something that used to be Potter’s, which would have been immensely satisfying if I’d had the brains to think of it before now._

_Now, I’ve only hours left, and the best I might be able to pull off is to bribe her into doing a little acting for a bit._

_I wonder what it will take to buy her as an accomplice?_

Draco flicked his eyes back towards his fake writing when Snape suddenly stood up from his desk again for another patrol of the room.

_Writing. Writing like a good little student. That’s what I’m doing. Don’t mind me._

Snape didn’t, fortunately, only glancing towards Draco’s parchment for a moment before moving on in a very prolonged stroll of the room. Draco uncovered a few inches of prewritten words, just in case he wandered back his way.

While Snape meandered almost aimlessly, Draco kept half an eye on him, half an eye on his fake writing, and the rest of his attention on Ginny.

Now that the idea of her being a suitable match for him had taken root, he found himself suddenly fascinated with her. He studied the way the light played with the varying shades of red and gold in her long and straight hair as it fell over her slender shoulders. The way her long eyelashes cast a shadow on her the soft curve of her cheekbone when she blinked. The line of her cute little nose. The tilt of her pink lips when she smiled at something she’d written. The creamy paleness of her skin adorned in freckles that he had the sudden urge to chart with kisses.

 _What the fuck?!_ he thought as he felt a sudden stirring of arousal, tearing his gaze off of her. _I’ve known the chit since she was about three feet tall and told me off in Flourish and Blotts so many years ago, why the hell am I going all gaga over her now?_

_Surely not because she might be my salvation?_

_The odds of that actually panning out are like one in a thousand anyway, you dipstick. She’s way more likely to hex your bollocks off than listen to anything you have to propose._

_Well, when you put it that way…_ he thought back to his cynical side with a humourless and silent laugh. _Unfortunately for our bollocks, we’re going to have to try anyway. I’d rather not have them available for use if it means shagging that hideous Russian witch for the rest of my life._

“Bloody hell!”

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin when Ronald Weasley all but yelled out loud enough to wake the dead as if he’d heard Draco’s thoughts, the timing was so perfect. It was also just loud enough to cover up Ginny Weasley’s identical exclamation at the same time.

Along with the rest of the class, he gawked at Ron as the Gryffindor idiot made a valiant effort at climbing over his desk with a nearly murderous expression on his face, only held back by Potter’s desperate grasp on his robe.

Granger had turned around and was gawping at Weasley as well, her face flushing nearly as red as Ginny’s hair. And the very pretty Miss Weasley was looking somewhere between mortified and amused.

_What the fuck is going on? What did I miss?_

“Ron! I… Um…” Granger was stuttering and clearly failing to come up with words. _Merlin, I think that might be a first. I didn’t even know that was possible!_

And then Uncle Sev, in pissed off Professor Snape mode, was billowing his way across the classroom to deal with the situation. _I can’t wait to see this!_

“Mr. Weasley!” he thundered as he strode. “Is there something the matter that requires you to disturb the class so?”

The Weasel tore his nearly feral gaze from Granger and wisely focused on Snape. He visibly gulped and quickly sat back down, shaking his head like a dog trying to rid himself of water. “No. No, Sir. Just something I… remembered.”

_Now there’s a lie if I ever heard one. I wonder what Granger said to make Weasley go all mental like that? And now Ginny is all but giggling out loud. Merlin, she’s pretty._

_Oh fuck. When did I start thinking of her as Ginny instead of The Weaslette?_

_I think I’m in trouble._

Snape came to a stop beside Granger’s desk, robes still moving forward for a moment due to the momentum before settling down around his feet. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Weasley one of his patented glares that could make every single person on the planet rethink their actions, with the exception of maybe Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. _Oh, and Auntie Bella, but that was because she was too mental to register when Death was looking her in the face._

_I should feel guiltier about how happy I am that she’s gone, but I really can’t make myself. If Father hadn’t changed sides and killed her in retaliation for murdering Mom, he’d be back in Azkaban right now._

Despite trying not to, Draco flashed back to the day of the battle, skin suddenly crawling like he'd been encased in dry ice from the remembered horror if it all. So many people that he knew dying all around him. The school left in ruins. His poor mother murdered on Voldemort’s orders for lying about Potter being dead. His father looking like an exhausted vagrant as he avenged her with some random wand he’d picked up off the ground. And Uncle Sev, lying unconscious in the dirt as curses flew all around them, bleeding all over the place from multiple snake bites and a partially successful Organ Frying curse as Draco did his best to patch him back together while shielding them from Dolohov until his father finished taking care of Bellatrix and came to kill Dolohov too.

That was, and forever would be, the worst day of his life.

Uncle Sev’s voice thankfully snapped him back to the present. “Do try and control your inclination towards any further outbursts for the next ten minutes, Mr. Weasley,” Snape growled. “I’m sure even you can manage that?”

Weasley looked like he wanted to curse Uncle Sev to hell and back, but he very wisely only said, “Yes, Sir.” It wouldn’t have done much to Snape anyway, even if he could. Uncle Sev had already gone through hell at either the hand of Voldemort or by his orders more times than he had years, and those were just the ones that Draco knew about. Anything that Weasley could dish out could never possibly compare.

One of the other worst days of his life was when he and his father had been ordered to use _Cruciatus_ on his godfather for half an hour straight to prove their loyalty to the Dark Lord when Uncle Sev had taken too long to show up after a summons.

At least they’d become even again when Uncle Sev was ordered to torture Draco for not killing Dumbledore when he should have.

It had been only one of many similar occasions when Draco was punished for not performing up to standards, starting even before he was forced to take the Dark Mark to replace his incarcerated father at sixteen or watch his mother get passed around like a dockside whore. But it was usually Bellatrix who did the punishing. She'd loved punishing people for her Lord, cackling with hair-raising glee the entire time. _I hope she’s burning in something like Muggle Hell right now. Her and Voldemort._

Snape raised a condescending brow at Weasley and sniffed like he smelled something foul. “Good,” he spat, and then he spun on his heel, aiming for his desk, the words, “Five points from Gryffindor,” floating on the air behind him.

“Fucking git,” Weasley mumbled just loud enough for Draco to hear.

_Now you’ve done it. If I heard that, I can guarantee that Snape did too. He hears EVERYTHING._

Snape paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Five more, Mr. Weasley,” he said almost pleasantly, but no one in their right mind would interpret it as such. “I trust you’re finished ‘expressing yourself’ now?”

Weasley clenched his fists, and his expression turned downright mulish, but he astonishingly refrained from saying anything else.

Snape shot him one last warning look and then finished his trip to his desk, sitting down as if nothing was amiss.

The room was so quiet Draco was sure he could hear the individual heartbeats of all twenty-six students in the room. Certainly no one was breathing.

Snape noticed.

He glanced up and somehow managed to catch the eye of every single student at once. Heads bent and quills started flying over parchment again. People exhaled in relief at not being scolded as well.

Draco smirked. _My godfather is such a badass._ The man in question noticed that Draco hadn’t done as the others had and raised a single brow at him. Draco grinned widely. Uncle Sev very nearly cracked a smile in return, the corner of his mouth deepening and his black eyes glittering.

They both knew how much he enjoyed putting down Weasley and Potter whenever he could get away with it for a reasonably legitimate reason.

Laughing silently to himself, Draco bent his head back to his fake writing and passed the time waiting for class to end by sneaking furtive looks at Ginny, unable to help himself.

Overall, it wasn’t the worst way to end the school year.


	3. Eavesdropping

**A/N: Soooooo, I have to apologize for not updating this sooner. This story has been in its turn for updating for half a month already and I’ve gotten absolutely nowhere with it. Firstly, because I’ve been completely obsessed with my new Clone Wars story inspired by the last arc of season 7, and secondly because I’ve had a very hard time working up some enthusiasm for the muse for this story because it hasn’t been particularly well read yet, which means that people aren’t exactly enthusiastic with the ship choice of Draco/Ginny.**

**Oh well. I can’t change the ship because then the story plot wouldn’t work at all, so we’ll just have to suffer through, won’t we? :P**

**On a different note, I’ve been writing 1000 + word chapters for my new CW story (instead of my usual 3 – 5000 word chapters), and I find that I’m really liking how much less stressful that is and I can produce a whole chapter in a day instead of many days, which means you all get more frequent content. I’m going to try this with more of my stories as well and see how that goes.**

**And thus, an 1800 word chapter for you…**

* * *

**Eavesdropping:**

Draco joined the enthusiastic and relieved herd of students who handed in their (hopefully) finished essays and then made a mass exodus for the door as quickly as they could. And then he slipped off to the side and leaned against the wall beside the door, waiting for the chattering students complaining about Snape to disperse from the hallway so that he could quietly duck back into the classroom and beg his godfather for some advice.

Potter and the Weasel either didn’t see him or chose not to see him as they came out of the classroom about half a minute after most of the others. (Ginny and Granger had yet to emerge, not that he was keeping track of the Weasley girl or anything.)

“What the bloody hell was that?!” Ron all but vomited out as soon as he made it about ten feet down the dreary corridor and was theoretically out of hearing of Uncle Sev.

_Oooooo. Am I finally going to find out what had him in an apoplectic huff during class?_

“I know, right?” Harry replied as they more or less stomped away down the hall.

Curious, Draco followed just within hearing distance; talking to Snape could wait for a few minutes.

“I can’t believe they were talking about greasy old Snape like he was some kind of a… a… sex god or Hollywood star!” Ron spat out, fists clenched.

_They were?! Go uncle Sev!_

_Wait. Ginny too?_

“And Hermione saying that just his voice could make her come! That can’t be natural!”

_WHAT?! Holy shite! What have I been missing?!_

_At least it wasn’t Ginny,_

“No, it can’t,” Potter reassured the fuming Weasley.

_I wonder if he’s turning as red as his awful hair again?_

“I mean, our Hermione’s just not like that! She doesn’t just go all gaga over shoulders and voices and hands and start comparing shoe sizes to dicks. Maybe Snape has her under some kind of spell or gave her a love potion or something?”

_Ha. Not likely. Sounds like Granger just has the hots for something less… immature weasel-like and more mature wizard-like. Makes sense, actually. They’re both bloody smart._

“I wouldn’t put it past him. He might be a hero of the war and all, but he was still a Death Eater first. Who knows what kind of questionable morals he has under that morbid exterior?”

_Hey! Uncle Sev was actually the nicest Death Eater of us all! Hurting other people when under orders from Moldy made him physically ill, I’ve see it._

“Well, I think we should go to McGonagall with this. He has to be stopped!” Ron said as he started to stomp up the stairs with Potter firmly at his side.

_Don't you dare! Don't make me obliviate you!_

Harry snorted and came to a stop on the stairs. “And say what, Ron? We overheard Hermione and Ginny whispering about Snape’s supposed attributes so they must be under the influence of something? You actually think McGonagall’s gonna believe us? Not bloody likely. You know she’ll just think we’re trying to make trouble for Snape.”

_Hunh. Potter's smarter than he looks._

Ron’s shoulders slumped a little. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I say we just drop it. We leave tomorrow morning and we’ll never see Snape again after that. And neither will the girls. Which means that we’ll have a good chance of winning them back.”

Draco snorted mentally and turned back around towards Snape’s classroom. _Good luck with that. Those girls finally figured out that you two weren’t worth their time or attentions, thank Merlin._

_Especially for me, considering I’m hoping to win a certain pretty red-head over to team Draco._

Like his thoughts had summoned her, Ginny and Granger finally emerged from the classroom, talking animatedly, and Granger carrying a large tray of vials most likely destined for the hospital wing. (Draco had been talked into couriering that same tray a few hundred times over the years as well, so he would know.)

After hearing Potter and Weasley’s conversation, he was practically dying of curiosity to know if the girls had more to say about Snape, so he moved off to the side of the corridor and cast a quick disillusionment spell, confident that they hadn’t seen him yet, as they hadn’t looked away from each other.

Draco held his breath and listened to their sweet female voices echo lightly down the stone corridor as they strolled towards him.

“… know right? He actually called me Hermione! Not Miss Granger! I thought I would die of shock!”

“Well, he was practically eating you with his eyes at the end there.”

“And that smile,” Granger sighed, hugging the tray tightly. “So dreamy and perfect. Did you see him smile at me? I didn’t even know he was capable of it! I thought I would swoon.”

Draco gaped in shock. _Whoa. Does Uncle Sev actually like her back? I’d long ago come to the conclusion that he’d actually forgotten how to smile, so he must. But… I thought he said he’d cut off his wand arm before he’d ever take up with a student._

_On the other hand, she’s not technically his student anymore, is she? And she’s nineteen, which is plenty old enough to know her own mind._

Ginny laughed like a sweet bell again. “Yes, I saw. I think you might have tamed the Beast of the Dungeons, Mione.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Granger said wistfully as they passed him, completely oblivious to their avid eavesdropper. “I didn’t know he had it in him, but I swear he was almost sweet to me, not a growl or scowl to be found.”

_Wasn’t I just thinking something about nice Death Eater?_

Draco fell in behind with carefully timed footsteps that matched theirs as Ginny giggled again. “But he sure did lay into Ron, didn’t he?”

“Did he ever! Circe, he was magnificent, wasn’t he?”

_Yes, he was that. He always was good at putting on a show, which is why he survived in Moldy’s court._

“Definitely,” Ginny sighed. “I can totally see the appeal now that you’ve spelled it out for me. I don’t know how I didn’t notice before, but you’re right; Professor Snape might just be the sexiest thing in this school.”

_Wait, what? That’s supposed to be MY title! She’s not allowed to think of Uncle Sev as desirable. Granger, sure, whatever. Good for him. But not Ginny!_

“Well, I’m definitely going to take him up on his offer of private potions lessons. I’m not going to miss this opportunity to get to know the nice Snape I think is hiding under the grouchy one.”

“I would too, if I were you,” Ginny said as they started to climb the stairs slowly. “I actually think you two are kind of perfect for each other and just need time to see it outside of a school setting.”

_Didn’t I just think that, too? Or close enough, anyway?_

_And, thank Merlin, Ginny doesn’t actually seem to want Snape, but was just admiring the window dressing per se. Can’t begrudge her that, I suppose._

“You think he’d actually be interested in someone so much younger than him?” Granger asked worriedly.

“Trust me,” Ginny said confidently. “From what I just saw, that man would have happily shagged you right on his desk in front of the entire school if he could have gotten away with it.”

“Ginny!”

 _That would have been entertaining, to say the least,_ Draco thought with a smirk.

“What?” the amber eyed imp said innocently. “I’m just saying what I saw. He was properly worked up, no question.”

Hermione paused on the stairs, almost at the top. “You don’t think…”

“What?”

“…that he could have overheard some of our conversation about him, do you?”

 _I can almost guarantee it,_ Draco thought with a silent laugh. _If they were talking like Potter and Weasel mentioned, no wonder he was all ‘worked up’._

“It’s possible, I suppose,” Ginny said with a shrug that made the gold undertones in her crimson hair shimmer. “Does it really matter if it made him see you in a different light?”

Granger was quiet for a moment as she resumed climbing. And then, “No, I guess not. It’s just a little embarrassing, is all.”

“You could ask him,” Ginny said cheekily as she bounced up the last few steps.

“Not a chance!” Granger protested, the glare in her voice almost audible. “I don’t have a death wish!”

Ginny turned around and walked backwards, grinning at her bushy-haired friend. “Unless you count being shagged to within an inch of your life, I don’t think you’d have a problem.”

_I second that. Something tells me that Uncle Sev would leap on the chance to have at Granger till they're both limp and gasping._

“Ginneeeeeee,” Granger whined. “Stop putting ideas in my head! It’s not helping!”

“What? You don’t want to picture you and Snapie-poo getting all frisky on his desk, and tied to his bed, and against a wall, and in the shower, and on a broom, and in the potions store room while you hang onto a shelf for dear life?”

Draco gulped. _Holy Merlin! She’s getting ME all hot and bothered just from her words!_

“Merlin, Gin!” Granger gasped, echoing him, leaning up against a wall and fanning her suddenly flushed face with one hand. “You’re killing me.”

 _Me too,_ Draco thought, adjusting his suddenly rock hard prick in his trousers to a vaguely more comfortable location.

“Sorry,” the red-haired goddess (because that’s how she suddenly looked to him) said laughingly. “You know I can’t help myself. It’s been waaaaay too long since I had anything even sort of resembling action and I guess I’m just projecting.”

_Fuck. I’d be more than happy to help you out with that, beautiful Ginevra, since I can say the same and probably double it._

Granger rolled her eyes and pushed off the wall. “That’s one word for it.” She huffed and continued on down the corridor. “Just try and tone it down a bit, kay?”

“Sure, Mione.” Ginny didn’t sound like she meant it, though, so Draco didn’t dare follow any longer before he actually embarrassed himself just from listening to her suggestive commentary.

Instead, he headed back to Snape’s classroom to beg for help in learning how to win over someone who hates your guts.


	4. Godfather's Advice

**Godfather's Advice:**

Draco rushed back to Snape’s classroom, figuring he didn’t have a moment to lose, what with the hours ticking down towards tonight’s leaving feast faster than the Hogwarts Express chugs between London and Hogsmeade.

He remembered to end his disillusionment spell only a second before he actually crossed the threshold of the still open door. “Uncle Sev!” he said on a somewhat breathless gasp as he tucked his wand away again, and then skidded to a stop right in front of the large desk.

The potions professor’s face was all but obscured by the long waterfall of his pitch black hair (that was really starting to look like his father’s pampered platinum locks in everything but colour) as he read over an essay with a red inked quill poised and at the ready to deliver scathing remarks, and stayed that way for a good twenty seconds while Draco practically vibrated with impatience. But he knew better than to interrupt his godfather.

Snape finally looked up from the parchment he was marking and put down his quill. He raised a single black eyebrow nearly all the way up to his hairline. “What is it this time, Draco?”

 _You’d think I ask him for things all the time,_ he thought with a mental scoff.

 _Okay, maybe I do. Whatever. This is important!_ Draco sucked in some air and let it out in a whoosh accompanied by, “You have to help me, Uncle Sev!”

Snape didn’t seem to be feeling the gravity of the situation. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chin, that eyebrow rising again in sardonic amusement. “As I already said; what is it this time, Draco?”

_Right. Explain. That helps._

_Or maybe just show him. That’s faster._

Draco pulled the folded letter out of his pocket and tossed it onto the desk. “Father sent me that this morning.”

Snape eyed the much abused parchment but made no move to pick it up, the snarky bastard. “What is it?”

“Would you please just read it?” Draco said. _Okay, begged, more like, but whatever._

“Fine,” Snape huffed, leaning forwards and picking up the parchment carefully between the tips of two fingers like it might bite him. He unfolded the letter and made quick work of reading the ultimatum, his black eyes flying over the lines in only moments. Snape tossed the letter back across the desk at Draco and leaned back in his chair again. “I don’t see the problem. So you have to marry a little earlier than you wanted to; it’s not the end of the world.”

_Oh, yes it is._

Draco pulled out the photograph of the witch in question and very deliberately placed it on the desk. “Would you marry THAT?”

Uncle Sev glanced at the photo and then did a very comical double take before picking it up and peering at it like his eyesight was lying to him. “Merlin’s balls, she’s ugly,” he muttered under his breath.

“Exactly!” Draco proclaimed, taking the picture back and stuffing it and the letter back into his robe pocket. “I absolutely refuse to saddle myself with such a hag for the rest of my life. I don’t know what barmy, addlepated, island of delusionment my father is living on, but I am NOT joining him there.”

Snape snorted. “Admittedly, neither would I.” He sighed. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you, though. Lucius is terribly stubborn about things like this. But... I can at least try and talk a modicum of sense into him for you at the Feast tonight. At least get the deadline extended or something.”

“Thank you,” Draco said and meaning it with his whole being. “That would be much appreciated if it comes down to that, but I have a plan of sorts.”

That eyebrow went up again and Snape’s eyes came alive with curiosity. “Oh?”

“I’m going to try and woo Ginny Weasley.” Snape’s eyes widened but Draco forged on. “And if that doesn’t work, make a solid attempt at bribing her into posing as my new girlfriend at least for tonight.”

“I see,” Uncle Sev drawled, his look of surprise already long gone. “An admirable if unlikely-to-be-achieved plan that any Slytherin would be proud of. Her blood-line is impeccable if a bit... red, and prone to sympathizing with the undesirable sort your father has such objections to. But she’s here and available. You have my support in your endeavours. Now go enact your plan; I have marking to do.” Snape picked up his quill and bent his head back to said task.

Summarily dismissed, Draco said, “Thank you, Uncle Sev,” received a grunt in reply, and then actually turned away, that used was he to following his godfather’s orders.

_What the fuck am I doing? I still need his help!”_

Draco stopped himself before he’d taken more than a step and turned back.

“What, Draco?” his godfather snapped, not even bothering to look up.

Draco parked his hands on the precious sanctum of Snape’s desk and leaned over it a bit, determined to get the older man’s attention, just because.

It worked, but the death glare he received for it almost, but not quite, had him backing down.

Determined, Draco met that glare with his own until Snape’s mouth quirked up into a reluctant smile and a hint of pride shone from his obsidian eyes.

Draco basked in it as he straightened up. “I still need a bit of advice, as it were,” he explained as he tucked his hands in his pockets, indicating he had no intention of touching the desk again.

“And what would that be?” Snape said as he twirled the quill between two fingers.

 _I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but here goes._ “Without using any underhanded tricks like potions or spells, how... how do you get a girl who hates you and won’t even look at you to fall in love with you in only six hours?”

Snape stared at him for five very long seconds, and then he laughed. Laughed like Draco hadn’t seen him do in years, throwing his head back and guffawing at the ceiling for a solid half minute.

When the usually glum and gloomy wizard finally stopped laughing and looked at him again, Draco was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his own arrogant eyebrow raised in disgust. “Glad I can make your day, but can you at least try and take me seriously here?”

Snape wiped his expression back to serious and gloomy in an instant. “My apologies. That was just...”

“Don’t even,” Draco cut him off. “I know how it sounds. I don’t need reminding.”

“Of course,” Snape said with a slight nod. “The only advice I can give you is to be nice to her.”

“Be nice.” _Really?_

“Yes.”

“That’s it.” _Are you sure?_

“Yes.”

_I’m doomed._

“Yes, you are.” Snape gave him a look of amused sympathy. They both knew that Ginny Weasley wasn't the kind of person to succumb to bribes, and the odds of her giving up her admittedly earned dislike for Draco was about as probable as the wizarding world deliberately revealing itself to the muggle one. 

Draco huffed at the talented wizard who’d read his mind again for the six bazillionth time. “Fine. I will go ‘be nice’ and see how far that gets me.”

“Good,” Snape said with a flick of his quill towards the door. “Now get.”

Draco sighed. “Going.”

He put action to word and turned for the door. On the way, he called back, “You might want to get your speech ready to implore Father with.”

“Already done.”

 _Show off._ Draco snorted and walked out the door. It slammed closed behind him all by itself.

Draco didn’t even jump, expecting it. Walking up the quiet corridor, Draco shifted the strap of his bookbag on his shoulder and aimed for the Great Hall via many stairs and hallways.

_All right. I can do this. I’m Draco Malfoy. Surely the ability to charm a girl is still in me somewhere?_

_Yeah. In your dreams, maybe._

Draco did NOT have a good feeling about this. 


	5. Rejected

**Rejected:**

Draco picked at his lunch, knowing he should be hungry since he’d only had half a toast this morning before becoming distracted by the cursed letter, but not feeling it. His stomach had given up rumbling in complaint sometime during Potions class as he’d somehow managed to become infatuated with Ginny Weasley. He didn’t even know what to think about that strange turn of events, but for the moment, he was just going with it.

All around him, excited students were talking about the Feast that evening and their plans for the future, whether it was just for the summer of freedom from school, or more grownup plans like jobs or apprenticeships or tours of other countries.

Sitting in his imaginary bubble of isolation that no one wanted to cross, leaving him with a few feet of empty bench on either side and no one directly across from him at the crowded table, Draco felt none of their enthusiasm, only the heavy weight of dread sitting like a loathsome troll on his chest and crushing all of the air out of his lungs.

He tried to ignore the heavy ache in his chest as he pushed his peas and carrots around his plate, hopelessly intermingling them within the disaster that was the former square of the meatloaf that he usually loved. (His mother would be appalled at the disorder on his plate, so he was very glad she wasn’t here to see it.) Between the plate rearranging, the odd attempt to actually swallow a tiny bite past the lump in his throat, and the resultant sip of pumpkin juice to wash it down, Draco kept his attention trained on the main entrance to the Hall, waiting for the two Gryffindor heroines - that were basically royalty as far as most of the Wizarding world was concerned - to make an appearance from their delivery to Pomfrey.

About fifteen minutes into his culinary torture, his (im)patience was finally rewarded; Ginny and the bushy haired know-it-all walked through the doors. His heart picked up the pace and suddenly the weight in his chest was gone at the enchanting sight of her. Which was nearly lost within only two seconds. He sat up a little taller, able to watch only their heads and shoulders move along above the rows of seated students between him and the other side of the Hall, since the girls were fairly short. When Ginny’s glimmering waterfall of flame coloured hair disappeared as she sat down, he huffed slightly in disappointment.

He knew why the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables had been separated by the other two Houses, which used to be more than fine with him, but now he cursed the arrangement because he couldn’t see the subject of his new fixation anymore. Oddly though, just that short glimpse of her smiling face had restored a bit of hope to his heart and his stomach woke back up and reminded him that it was hungry with capital letters.

Eager to see Ginny again and start making ‘nice’ with her, Draco inhaled the still-warm-thanks-to-magic food on his plate, barely tasting it.

Four minutes later, he chugged down the last of his pumpkin juice then moved to stand and step over the bench and found that he couldn’t. _What the…?_ he thought as his feet refused to move from the floor.

In his inattention, someone had used a sticking spell on his shoes.

“Very original. You could at least come up with something new,” he sneered at the other Slytherins around him who were studiously not looking his way and talking to each other as if he didn’t exist, just like they’d been doing for the entire school year.

Except for the practical jokes, of course. It was a rare day indeed that he didn’t find his robe changed to something obnoxious like neon yellow or his shampoo replaced with glue as two of the most common examples. (As he’d already stated, they weren’t very creative.) If he wasn’t a stubborn Malfoy who valued pride like a personal mantra, Draco would have left school behind long ago. But that would mean admitting that the other students had won in their war against him and he would never let them have that over his head for the rest of his life.

He’d get them back one day, in future business dealings that they didn’t know where orchestrated by him, if nothing else. He hadn’t worked his arse off to get the second highest grades in the school for nothing. ( _Bloody Granger.)_

Without even bothering to pull his wand out, Draco muttered the counter spell that he had way too much practice saying and his feet were free.

Glaring at the Fourth year girl who was now sniggering behind her hand and the most likely culprit, he shouldered his bookbag and then marched up the space between the bench and the wall, aiming for the front of the Hall. If he hadn’t wanted to at least try and see Ginny, he would have gone the other way and walked out the door in only ten seconds or so, avoiding his former friends sitting at the head of the Slytherin table. But he did, so towards the front of the tables he went.

A dozen or so long strides later, Draco came to a near sliding stop as he did a double take at the picture Blaise was holding that he and Theo were all but busting their guts laughing over. _Was that…? It can’t be._

Draco backed up a step and gawked at the photo. _It is! It’s the same Russian witch!_ His hand immediately flew to his pocket to check that his own copy of the hag’s picture was still there.

It was.

_Weird._

“I can’t…” snort “...believe…“ Theo held his stomach as he belted out a few more laughs and then seemed to find a modicum of control. “…that you got one of those pics too, Blaise. My parents thought it was a joke when they received one in the mail a few weeks ago, now I’m sure of it. No one in their right mind would be that desperate to send out letters with an offer of marriage when the witch looks like that.”

Blaise looked at the picture again and nearly choked on the loud snort that escaped. “Bloody right. This has to be some sort of joke that’s being played on the pure-blood houses. Probably by a jealous half-blood or mudblood.”

Draco almost swayed with relief at how much that theory made sense. _A joke. Just a joke. One my father fell for, but that’s desperation for you._

_I can’t wait to tell him that he’s been tricked._

_Merlin, I’m free again._

Pansy, sitting across the table from the boys, noticed that he’d stopped. “Move on, Malfoy,” she snapped. “There’s nothing here for you.”

This, of course, drew the attention of all of the nearby Eighth years. Theo and Blaise turned around on their bench and gave him a warning glare.

Draco swept a haughty look over the lot of them, his pride not letting him crumple in front of them like his heart had just done. “Clearly not. Malfoys don’t mingle with the commoners anyhow.”

Pansy gasped in outrage and his two ex best friends almost pulled their wands on him, but Draco didn’t care; he just swept away from the table with his head held high, his shoulders back, and his steps sure. _Good riddance,_ he told himself to help ease the hurt. _Nothing like a war to show you who your real friends are._

_Too bad the only two that still qualify are my father and Uncle Sev. And I guess my owl too. She loves me, so she counts, right?_

As he walked past the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, Draco had a new thought.

_If I’m free, that means I don’t have to try and win over or bribe Ginny Weasley._

He paused in midstep for half a second. _Why am I disappointed by that?_ He rounded the Hufflepuff table and moved up the row, and now Ginny was visible again. His breath caught at the sight of her, very much liking the scowl she was giving Potter and her brother across the table.

_Maybe… Maybe I can still try and win her anyway. I do need to get married eventually, and she does meet most of Father’s strict requirements._

_And she’s bloody gorgeous. (I still can't believe I didn't notice that before today.)_

_And feisty._

_And talented._

_And very good at putting boys in their place,_ he thought with a smirk as her biting words carried to him as he approached. “And you should know better than to eavesdrop on private conversations,” she said as she poked a lethal looking fork towards Potter.

_Ooooo, are they fighting over the fiasco in Potions class earlier? I bet they are._

Draco sauntered up to the girl he had a feeling would now take center stage in his dreams. “Problems in paradise, Princess?” Ginny spun around on the bench, a shocked expression on her face that he’d actually addressed her. As her mouth opened to probably tell him to take a long step off a high cliff without a broom, he quickly added, “You know you could always abandon those losers and…”

He didn’t get to finish his thought as Ginny, Granger, Potter, and the Weasel all yelled at the same time like they’d rehearsed it a thousand times (or just had a lot of real-life practice telling him to sod off), “PISS OFF, MALFOY!”

Of course the entire Hall heard them and sudden silence reigned as all eyes turned to the ex Death Eater that they firmly believed shouldn’t be darkening the hallowed halls of Hogwarts with his Dark and cursed presence.

Draco felt like a cockroach under a magnifying glass.

Again, pride kept his head up and his expression of confidence in place. He sneered at the Gryffindor herd and stalked out of the Great Hall as fast as he could without looking like it as a wave of swelling, mocking laughter pushed him out.

His already miniscule confidence in himself disintegrated even further and all desire to woo the red-haired goddess fled in the face of extreme embarrassment. 

_I don’t know why I even bothered,_ he thought as soon as he cleared the doorway and his shoulders slumped up to his ears. _It was stupid of me to even think that the Weaslette would change her attitude about me._ Draco stubbed the toe of his shoe against the floor angrily and then made for the Owlery to hide with Evihootay for a few hours.

 _Just have to make it to tomorrow morning and I never have to see this fucking place and these fucking people again._


	6. Peep Show

**A/N: I know I said I would try not to rehash too much from the first book, but everything that happens next to Ginny is kind of important in changing her outlook on certain things, so you’re getting the same Severus/Hermione/Ginny smutfest from her point of view too.**

**And just in case you haven’t read the first one (which means this is all new to you anyway - yay!), I’ll just say again that** **Hermione is a few months short of 20 (or actually is, if you consider time-turner use) and Ginny is a month shy of 18 (but as we all know, 17 is considered the age of majority in the Wizarding world, so everyone is a consenting adult. :D) Severus is 39 but can pass for at least 10 years younger because he's such a powerful wizard. The Severus in my head is still played by Alan Rickman, but a much younger version. (He was about 55 years old when he made the first movie.) This brilliant actor was bloody gorgeous as a young man (seriously, google his pics if you don't believe me) and was still worth a look or twenty in his later years. (He will be forever missed and adored.) Alternatively, Adrien Brody or Adam Driver also make good thirties looking Snapes if you'd like to picture either of them instead. :D**

* * *

**Peep Show:**

Without appearing to do so, Ginny watched Draco Malfoy leave the Great Hall with his back ramrod straight, broken pride radiating from him, and felt a strange hint of remorse at having yelled at him.

_He may be a stuck up git with bad taste, but maybe he doesn’t deserve quite so much hate from almost literally everyone in the school. Not even his fellow snakes like him anymore, and that’s just sad._

“Merlin, I’ll be glad to see the last of him,” Ron grumbled before shoving in another huge bite of meatloaf.

“Him and Snape both,” Harry agreed with a pointed look at her.

“Oh, grow up, Harry,” Ginny hissed quietly, not wanting their neighbouring students to hear them after drawing so much attention already. “So Mione and I gossiped about Snape’s features a bit. We’re girls, that’s what we do.”

“But why’d it have to be him?” Harry hissed back, leaning across the table until he was in danger of getting meatloaf on his school jumper. “He’s a greasy old Death Eater. What do you even see in him?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her ex boyfriend… heavy emphasis on the ‘boy’. “Right now, a whole lot more than I see in you.”

“And he’s not greasy anymore,” Hermione whispered defensively into their conversation.

“Yeah, right,” Ron mumbled through a mouth full of food as he rolled his eyes.

Ginny glared at her idiot brother. She loved him, but some days, like today, she couldn’t stand him. _I don’t know what Hermione ever saw in such an uncouth pig. How does he still have such appalling manners after all this time?_ “Just drop it, okay. It’s done.”

“Whatever.”

Silence took over their section of the Gryffindor table as everyone else around them continued chatting happily. It wasn’t pleasant and all Ginny wanted was to get out of there. Hermione must have had the same idea, because she finished her lunch even quicker than Ginny did, standing abruptly the second she was done. “I’m taking the tray back to Professor Snape’s classroom,” she announced as she stepped over the bench. “Coming with, Gin?”

Ginny dropped her fork on her mostly empty plate. “Coming. There’s nothing left appetizing here anyway.” 

Unfortunately, the pointed jab at the boys across the table was lost on them as Harry simply shrugged. “Yeah. Meatloaf wasn’t quite as good as normal, was it?”

“I thought it was fine,” Ron mumbled.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged looks of exasperation and left the boys to their second helping, Harry calling out a, “See you later, then?” as they walked away.

“Sure,” Hermione answered noncommittally for both of them over her shoulder.

 _Not likely,_ Ginny thought with a frown. _Not till the feast tonight, anyway._

The boys had their last Divination class after lunch and then had been planning to join the traditional Quidditch free-for-all that took place in the afternoon just before the Leaving Feast. Ginny had originally planned to join in the even rougher and crazier than normal game like she had every year previously, but she doubted that she was going to feel like seeing Harry or Ron again while she was still in the mood to execute them for the crime of immature idiocy.

_Then again, I could probably give them a good hurt-on on the Quidditch field and call it all part of the game._

_The thought definitely has some merit._

The girls walked in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts until Hermione suddenly burst out with, “I’m not insane, right? Professor Snape really is looking very hot these days?”

“No, Mione. You’re not insane,” Ginny was quick to reassure. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, but he’s a prime wizard for sure.”

“Oh, thank Merlin. For a moment there, the boys had me questioning my own eyes.” She shifted the tray full of empty vials a bit to a better grip as they started descending the many, many stairs to the dungeon. “Did Ron really have to have such an epic freak out in class? Like… Really?”

Ginny shook her head helplessly. “I’m sorry, Mione. My brother is a few brain cells short, that’s all I can say.”

“Yeah. I guess. Not that Harry was acting much better. Remind me never to date a friend again if there’s any chance that we would remain friends afterward.”

Ginny laughed. “Done.” She paused for dramatic effect and then said in a very serious tone, “Hermione, don’t, under any circumstances, go out with Ron, Harry, or Neville in the future.”

Hermione giggled. “Thanks, Gin. Now we just need to invent a potion to make the boys grow up faster so they stop being idiots about us moving on.”

Ginny froze for half a second between steps down and stared at the back of her friend’s head with wide eyes. “Hermione, you’re a genius. That would be perfect! That’s exactly what we need for our exes. I just can’t believe them. They’re being such…” she trailed off in frustration, trying to find the right word.

“Boys?” Hermione supplied helpfully, looking back at her with a grin.

_Almost. Ah. Got it!_ “Worse! Toddlers fighting over the same toy!”

They both giggled at that perfect analogy.

Then Ginny had another thought. _Speaking of boys being weird…_ “And what was up with Malfoy?” Ginny asked. “Did he actually call me Princess? Is this some new form of insult, because if that’s the case, I think I like Weaslette better.”

Hermione snorted softly in agreement. “Who knows what’s going on in Draco’s head? But he’s just as much of a prat as he’s always been. Fortunately, we’ll hardly ever see him again after tomorrow.”

“Thank Merlin,” Ginny huffed as they took the last few steps to the open Potions classroom door. “I’ll definitely be happy to see the last of him. There’s only so much Malfoy snobbiness a person should have to bear with in their lifetime.”

“Agreed.”

Ginny stopped just after they entered the dank and empty classroom, a chill running down her spine. She felt like she was trespassing or something and wouldn’t be surprised if a booby trap sprang at them at any moment. “I can’t believe we’re in Snape’s classroom without him or anyone else being here,” she said in a hushed tone, not moving until Hermione passed her on her way to the storage closet.

Hermione laughed at her, making Ginny feel ridiculous. “I know. It feels kind of naughty, doesn’t it?”

 _Uhhhh, sure?_ But she wasn’t about to be outdone by the older girl, so she said confidently, “Definitely.”

“I think I like being naughty,” Hermione admitted as she entered the closet, surprising Ginny.

_Wow. Finally. Good for you, girl._

Hermione sighed softly as a wishful look crossed her face while she put the tray on a small empty portion of a shelf. “In fact, I’d love to be naughty with Professor Tall, Dark, and Dreamy.”

 _You know, I wouldn’t mind that either. It’s been way too long since I felt anyone’s hands on me other than my own. And Snape is definitely looking like sex candy right now._ “Ditto,” Ginny sighed as she walked further into the closet, running her finger along the edge of a shelf.

Hermione laughed as they lingering in the closet like it was their own private gossip haven. “I’ve converted you, have I?”

Ginny turned around and grinned as she leaned against the shelves, crossing her arms over her chest. “It didn’t take much, I have to admit. The boys prancing around this school like they’re Merlin’s gift to women just aren’t doing it for me.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re telling…” Her voice trailed off as her head tilted a little. “Hey, do you see that?”

Ginny spun around, trying to follow the other girl’s line of sight, but her angle was wrong. “See what?”

“Look there, a tiny strip of light.”

Ginny moved over to the other side of the closet, and voila! A thin line of light shining on the shelves at the back corner. “Oh. Yes. I do see it.”

Hermione moved past her and closer to the curious anomaly like she was drawn by a siren call. “I swear I’ve never seen that before and I’ve been in this closet hundreds of times over the years for supplies.” She ran her hands along the back wall and inhaled sharply as a portion of it moved slightly. Ginny watched with bated breath as Hermione pulled the door open another fraction and peered through the tiny gap she’d made. “Bloody hell, Gin! It’s a bedroom!”

Feeling a forbidden thrill at the discovery, Ginny rushed to the end of the closet as well and crowded in beside Hermione, wishing she was taller so she could see right over Hermione’s head. “Let me see! Shove over a bit.” Hermione obliged and Ginny crowded in beside her. Sticking one eye to the crack, she saw a candlelit room that contained a wardrobe, many stuffed bookshelves, and right in the middle, an absolutely massive and drool worthy fourposter bed. Knowing it was probably redundant, she said, “You’re right. It is!” anyway.

The girls looked at each other. (Not hard to do, considering their faces were all but pressed together.) “Do you think it’s…” Hermione asked leadingly.

Ginny followed her logical deduction easily and finished the sentence. “Snape’s bedroom?”

Hermione nodded. “Logic would assume as much.” And then she turned her head and sighed longingly. “Look at that fourposter.”

 _I know! Makes the beds in our dorms look like miniatures._ “It’s huge!”

“Just imagine what naughty things could go on in such a bed,” Hermione said wistfully, making Ginny giggle and poke her in the side with an elbow.

An image of naked limbs entwined on said bed popped into her head. “Oh, I’m imagining all right.”

“Do you think, if we stay here and be super quiet that Snape would give us a bit of a show?” Hermione mused.

Ginny blinked at her. _Whoa! Who is this new Hermione? Snape calls her by her first name once and gives her a few heated looks and suddenly she’s turned into Lavender and co._ “You mean like a strip show?”

A flicker of doubt crossed Hermione's face. “Yeah. I guess.” But then it was gone as wishful thinking replaced it. “I mean, he has to finish his lunch any minute now, and maybe we’ll get lucky and Hagrid will have spilt his goblet into Snape’s lap.”

Ginny snorted softly, actually remembering one time in her second year when that exact thing had happened and Snape had practically bitten poor Hagrid’s head off before he’d stalked out of the Hall like a pissed off vampire. “Wouldn’t that be just perfect? Then we could find out if noses, hands, and feet really are comparable to penises.”

The girls looked at each other and raised their brows in the exact same, ‘as if’, look.

Hermione finished hers off by huffing out a sigh. “I think we’re just being silly now. Snape is never going to just wander into his room and start stripping for us. We should just go.”

Ginny copied her sigh, but made it even more exaggerated, just for amusement’s sake. “Yeah. I guess.”

Hermione pushed the hidden door closed again and they turned to leave.

And then there was a muffled bang from the other room.

They looked at each other with a weird mix of alarm and hope. 

“What was that?” Ginny whispered.

They turned back around and Hermione cracked the door again, peering inside and gasping softly. “He’s here!”

Ginny froze. “Oh, Merlin!” _What are we doing? We could get in so much trouble for this! We should leave._

Hermione gestured her over. “Quick!”

Ginny’s feet ignored her conscience. But her brain wasn’t quite stupid yet. “Shhhhhh!” she hissed as she squeezed in beside her best friend again.

“Right,” Hermione mumbled in apology.

They held their breath as Snape walked towards his wardrobe on the far side of the room, shrugging out of his voluminous robe as he did so and then hanging it up on a hook inside. The doors had mirrors on the inside of each, offering them a nearly perfect view of him from all sides. Then his hands went to the top button of his perfectly tailored wool frock coat.

_Merlin, he’s actually undressing!_

“Circe help me, he’s undoing BUTTONS!” Hermione breathed in her ear. They looked at each other with wide eyes for two seconds and then they were plastered to the crack in the doorway again.

As the professor took his time undoing his buttons one at a time, a thoughtful look on his face as if his mind was elsewhere, Ginny was counting the graceful movements of his long-fingered hands. 

_Eight._

_Eleven._

_Fifteen._

_Nineteen._

_Merlin, how many buttons are on that coat?_

_Twenty-two._

_I think I’m in love with frockcoats now._

_Twenty-seven._

_It does do amazing things for his physique. No wonder he hides under that big robe or all the witches would be attacking him._

_Thirty. Thirty buttons. Bloody hell. I’m getting hot. Did someone turn up the heat in the closet?_

Hermione was practically panting beside her as he tugged his sleeves over his wrists one at a time and then shrugged out of his coat and hung it up very deliberately. He even brushed off an offending speck from a sleeve.

And then he started on the row of buttons on his waistcoat.

“Oh, Merlin. More buttons,” Hermione breathed in awe, panting even heavier.

Ginny had to admit she wasn’t much better off. _Who knew watching a man undress could be so sexy?_

_I guess that’s why strip clubs exist. I might have to go find one of those one day. Geez._

Fortunately for their lungs, there was only fifteen buttons on the black silk brocade waistcoat.

He hung that up just as carefully as the frockcoat. Considering how expensive his clothes looked (now that she was actually paying attention to the fine details on the black clothing), she didn’t blame him at all.

Next in the striptease came the black neckcloth from around his throat, removed with a practiced flick of the wrist that made Hermione's breath catch audibly. _I may be appreciating this, but she's got it BAD,_ Ginny thought with no little amount of amusement.

And then he started on the row of buttons on his white dress shirt and the girls’ panting breaths all but disappeared as they held them instead. He was revealing a small portion of his bare chest with each button. By the time he made it halfway down, her brain was so starved for proper oxygen, Ginny forgot what number she was in her count.

With each undone button, he revealed a chest that was lean but well defined with appealing muscles. _Definitely not as scrawny as I was expecting._

_Hermione has the right idea, lusting after this man, no question._

Her eyes followed the flight path of his wand as it was casually tossed over his shoulder to the bed and then immediately returned to the man who was turning her best friend into a melting puddle and now had a death grip on Ginny's arm that she was pretty sure was going to leave bruises. _Worth it, I suppose, for the show and if it gets Hermione the man of her dreams in the long run._

_I still want to know how he makes taking simple things like his cufflinks and wand holder off look so appealing. Is it the graceful hands?_

She sucked in some much needed air as he tugged his shirttails out of his trousers and then pulled off his shirt, revealing the broad shoulders the coat had hinted at, lean but visibly muscled arms, and fully exposing his chest and abdominal muscles.

_Holy shite!_

It wasn’t his form that both girls gasped at, however, but the numerous scars practically covering his back and scattered across his front. _I think… I think the poor man was whipped. Over and over and over again. Oh Circe._

The girls looked at each other again, this time with their eyes wide with sorrow for their Potions Professor who’d clearly suffered through an appalling life of abuse, most likely as a child, since he was too powerful now to ever let anyone do that to him. _Except for Voldemort, maybe, I guess._

They were drawn from their contemplation of his past as his graceful hands moved to his belt and they sucked in matching inhales of surprise. _Just how far is he going?_

The belt was slid through the loops of his black trousers with a swish and hung up. Her gaze fell to the bulge behind his zipper as he almost undid it, eyes widening again. _Oh, Merlin._ But then he changed his mind and bent over further and proceeded to unlace one of his dragon hide boots and she was treated to a rare sight that she doubted very few people had ever seen since his frockcoat and robe cover his backend all the time.

_Merlin! His arse is practically perfect! That should be illegal or something._

Hermione must have thought so too, because she nudged Ginny with an elbow and whispered in a barely audible tone, “Ginny, do you see what I see?”

“If you mean the finest arse ever placed on a male, then yes, I see what you see,” Ginny whispered back. She barely registered what he was doing with his boots because she couldn’t seem to peel her eyes off the fine male arse outlined by the black trousers that had tightened over the perfect curves as he bent over.

Then he stood tall again and touched his fingertips to his bulging fly again.

The girls stopped breathing again.

_Either he’s as well endowed as a hippogriff, or the man is excited._

She found out a moment later that it was more or less a combination of the two as he stepped out of his trousers and undershorts and basically just tossed them into the wardrobe. She only took a second to register that his legs were as nicely muscled as his arms in that lean but well defined way, and that his feet were as elegant as his hands, when she moved her focus back to his groin area.

_Maybe not as big as Buckbeak’s equipment, but Merlin, that’s a lot of cock. He puts Harry to shame, that’s for fucking sure._

“Oh. My. God,” Hermione breathed out.

“I didn’t know they came that large,” Ginny seconded on a wheeze.

Snape suddenly slammed the wardrobe doors shut and spun, leaning his back against it and bracing his legs. He then took that massive length in his right hand as his eyes closed and he started to stroke.

“Is he…?” Hermione gasped, rearing back and her eyes practically bugging out of her head as she looked at Ginny.

Ginny looked back through the crack, just to double check. “He is.”

“Merlin.”

 _Seconded. Now let me enjoy the show ‘cause I’m sure I’ll never have the chance to see this again._ Ginny plastered her eye to the crack again, unsurprised when Hermione did the same.

His hand moved rhythmically. His chest rose and fell with large inhales of air through his aquiline nose. His sculpted face, framed by long midnight locks that cascaded down past his shoulders, was a study of male bliss as he rested it against the wardrobe.

He looked like a work of art.

Ginny was seriously tempted to bury her hand under her clothes and join him in masturbatory heaven, but having Hermione right beside her kept her hands pressed to the door and her libido down to something resembling bearable.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked like she was about to come without the help of any appendages. 

Maybe two minutes later, Snape grunted as his left hand joined the party and tugged on his sac while his other hand sped up. And then he came rather spectacularly with an impressive amount of seed shooting nearly halfway across the room as he groaned out a word that sounded suspiciously like her curly haired friend’s name.

The girl in question whimpered pathetically, looking very flushed and out of sorts. 

Ginny blinked and pulled back from the door, taking a step back, extracting her abused arm from Hermione's grip as she did so, and then pulling her kind of limp friend along with her even further. _Ummmmmm._ “Did he say Hermione?” she asked in a whisper.

“Uhhhhhhhh, maybe?” Hermione answered, looking shocked as some semblance of strength returned to her legs.

_Maybe our teacher has a crush of his own. Lucky girl._

“Maybe I misheard,” Ginny offered as a way out if Hermione wanted it.

“Maybe.” Hermione was starting to look contemplative instead of surprised, which Ginny thought was a good thing. The brilliant potions professor and the know-it-all were perfect for each other, as far as she was concerned.

“What are you going to do about it?” she pushed, deciding that Hermione might need a nudge to see the same.

The other girl shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, Gin. This is all rather weird.”

 _That’s true. But how often do opportunities like this present themselves like this so perfectly?_ “I think you should go in there and pounce on him.”

Hermione shook her head faster. “I don’t know if I can. I’m just not that brave.”

“Of course you are, Mione!” she whispered fiercely, tempted to shake some sense into her. “You’re the bravest person I know! Look at everything you’ve done and survived and fought; confronting Snape is nothing compared to that.”

The door flung itself open and their teacher was framed in all his naked glory by the rectangle of brighter light. “I completely agree, Miss Weasley,” he rumbled out in that dead sexy baritone. 

The girls gawked at him for all of a second before crying, “Professor Snape!” in perfect synchronicity.


	7. Vindicated Betrayal

**Vindicated Betrayal:**

After trudging (literally) all the way through the castle and up to the Owlery located in the West Tower across a massive 'courtyard' that would better be described as a bloody mountain, Draco turned right back around before entering, sneering in disgust.

_How fucking desperate do you have to be to use the filthy Owl Tower as a place to get it on? There are literally a hundred other better, and cleaner, private spots on the grounds to rendezvous in. Merlin._

And so the repulsed Slytherin aristo turned back around without even whistling for his pet owl to come say hi, since it might alert the vigorously moaning couple to the fact that they weren’t alone, and trudged all the way back to the main part of the castle, hating his life the entire way.

Mostly because he was secretly jealous of the trysting students who were currently engaged in an act that hadn’t been on his list of accomplished activities for more than a year now. 

* * *

Ginny was having a hard time believing that she was actually in Professor Snape’s bed.

It was like she’d been drawn there by a spell, but she knew she hadn’t. One minute she and Hermione were getting the ultimate peep show and the next the naked professor was encouraging both of them into his room despite the fact that he really only had eyes for Hermione.

She was pretty sure that Snape knew that Hermione needed the emotional support to do something so daring, which was really sweet of him (in a kind of self-serving way) if you think about it. And it was also the reason why Ginny was acting so enthusiastically about having a threesome with their former teacher even though she was already feeling like an unnecessary third wheel.

Not that getting it on with Snape was going to be a hardship or anything. The older wizard was looking pretty damn hot right now wearing not a stitch of clothing and she was honestly turned on to the point of panty soaking and stomach clenching discomfort after watching him toss one off like a porn star.

Spell or not, weird but sexy dream or not, Ginny was in the same bed as Snape and Hermione and she was voluntarily taking her clothes off.

_Circe help me._

* * *

Depressed with the cold looks or outright laughter he received as he walked through the corridors of the school he couldn’t wait to see the last of, Draco decided the best solution to his misery was to go hide in his curtained four poster and sleep the afternoon away with a variety of silencing and do not disturb spells placed on it.

And thus he was trudging (still, because he couldn’t summon up the energy needed to actually pick up his feet properly) past Snape’s open classroom door when the echo of a pair of feminine squeals stopped him dead in his tracks.

_What the fuck? Is someone actually barmy enough to use Uncle Sev’s classroom as a place to get it on? Don’t they know Snape will hit them with a horrid itching curse for even thinking it?_

Backing up a step, Draco walked into the dimly lit classroom to chase them out, for Snape’s sake if nothing else. (The poor man really didn’t need the reminder too that the rest of the world seemed to be getting lucky on a regular basis while they molded like forgotten bread in their dark and dreary corners, just getting older and more cynical.)

Glancing around at the desks, Draco didn’t readily see any writhing shadows or hear any more illicit sounds, but no one would be stupid enough to do it out in the open anyway. So he made for the supply closet at the back of the room.

And found no one in there either.

_What the hell? Am I hearing things now too?_

Just as he was about to turn around in disgust, Draco spotted a tiny beam of light that didn’t belong only a second before he heard the familiar voice of Hermione Granger say, “Is this all right, Sir?”

The platinum blond boy froze again as his godfather answered, “It’s survivable, I suppose,” in a voice that only pretended to be put upon.

Draco snorted under his breath. _Of bloody course Uncle Sev is also getting lucky today. I guess I’m the only moldy bread left now._

_And how fucking pathetic is that?_

Draco turned to leave them to it, but paused again as the words Snape had said played back in his mind. _What’s survivable? What in Merlin’s name is Granger doing to him?_

Now intensely curious, and figuring a quick peek wouldn’t hurt anything, Draco made for the now obvious crack in the wall that the light and voices were coming from. He pulled the hidden door that definitely hadn’t been there before open an inch and pressed an eye to the opening.

 _Well, fuck,_ he thought in abject dismay as he saw not one girl but two on the massive four poster bed with a tied up and butt naked Snape who was clearly aroused in spite of his position (or perhaps because of?). Which would have been funny and worth cheering on in any other circumstances, but the second girl was Ginevra Weasley… the girl Draco had suddenly found himself infatuated with only that morning.

The girl that his godfather knew perfectly well that Draco wanted for himself.

Once again, the depressed boy almost turned to leave as the pain of betrayal shot through his chest like a Cruciatus curse from his Aunt Bella (been there, done that, lost track of how often), but he’d only taken a half step when he was pressing his eye to the crack again.

Not to see Granger the Nose-Breaking Harpy (shudder) or Snape the Girl-Stealing Snake (even bigger shudder) but to watch Ginny the Fiery Princess Weasel.

_This might be my only chance to ever see the witch unclothed, and then I’ll at least have some fuel for my fantasies to jack off to for a while._

At the moment, the red haired girl was kneeling on the bed beside Snape and pressing kisses along the man’s tied up arm. Draco chose not to focus on that but on the way her arse was almost perfectly outlined by her black pleated skirt in that position.

The girl had a mighty fine arse.

 _An inspiring arse, even,_ he thought with a sardonic twist to his lips as things started to get a little tight in the trouser department.

Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to be overly fascinated with Snape’s body as she was still using her mouth and hands to explore the upper appendage she’d claimed for herself with her Gryffindor necktie.

As she looked up and across Snape to Granger who was working on Snape's other arm, Ginny’s words affirmed this theory.

“His arms are all kinds of fine, aren’t they?”

 _They’re not that great,_ Draco thought petulantly, even though his own arm muscles weren’t any bigger than his godfather’s.

“I’d almost say he works out or something,” Ginny continued, “But that just doesn’t fit the image.”

Draco nearly snorted out loud. _No fucking kidding. Snape, work out? Now there’s a laugh._

Granger hadn’t gotten the memo, apparently, because she asked Snape, “Is Ginny right? Do you work out?”

Snape, being Snape, snorted blatantly in rebuttal, his tied up position not interfering with his dry-witted composure at all. “Hardly. Such pastimes are for the vain. But I do engage in an occasional bout of fencing with Lucius or Draco, and I enjoy swimming in the ocean in my free time.”

_Ooooo, swimming. Now there’s something I miss. Note to self – go swimming more often. Maybe I’ll even forget how and put myself out of my misery._

Hermione seemed to like that answer, because she beamed at Snape and then kissed his shoulder.

Ginny smiled at Snape too. “That explains a lot. And I…” Her beautiful smile bestowed on the wrong wizard fell. “Wait, did you say Draco? The Ferret fences? Like a gentleman?”

_Hey! There’s no like about it! I am a fucking gentleman!_

_Unlike your uncouth brothers who wouldn’t know which fork to eat with even if the right one was highlighted in neon pink._

_Assuming they eat with cutlery at all, that is._

_And when will they stop calling me Ferret!?_

Snape earned a few points back in Draco’s mental respect book when he gave Ginny a fearsome frown and said, “I would appreciate if you didn’t call my Godson names, Miss Weasley. And yes, he…”

Draco must have moved minutely, because Snape’s words paused and his gaze flicked to where Draco was standing on the other side of the hidden door. He blinked only once in acknowledgement that didn’t tell Draco whether he should stay or flee for his life at the same time that Ginny was screeching out, “MALFOY IS YOUR GODSON?! How did we not know this!?”

 _Because it was supposed to be a secret, you twat,_ Draco thought crossly, not feeling quite so enamoured with the Weasley girl at the moment _._

Snape huffed out an exasperated sigh much like Draco would do if he wasn’t sort of illicitly eavesdropping / spying. “Because you didn’t need to know. And…”

“It explains a lot, though,” Granger interjected. “The favouritism, how you protect him, and so on.”

_He doesn’t!_

_Okay._

_Maybe a little._

His wickedly awesome godfather actually growled. “The next person who interrupts me is going to lose ten points from Gryffindor.”

The girls comically snapped their mouths shut and Draco almost laughed out loud at the power Snape had over them even tied up and supposedly helpless. _You tell ‘em, Uncle Sev._

And then boy, did he ever.

“Now, as I was saying; yes, Draco is my Godson. And yes I know I’ve shown him a bit of favouritism in the past. And yes, he knows how to fence like a gentleman. And ride and drive horses. And fly a broom with the best of them.”

 _Thank you!_ Draco beamed.

“Not to mention manage the estate and family businesses, which he did with only a modicum of assistance from Narcissa while still attending school, and under great pressure from the Dark Lord, while his father was in Azkaban.”

_Too true. Sixth year was hell._

“I realize he’s been more than a bit of a prat and a bully…” Draco winced, now knowing what it felt like to be on the other end of the figurative stick. “…mostly as a product of his biased upbringing, but he’s working on getting past that.”

_I am. Honest. The fact that I’m lusting after a former Blood Traitor should be evidence enough of that._

“Even Lucius has come to see that pure-blood fanaticism is simply not a viable course of action.”

_Okay, that one might be a bit of an exaggeration. Father is just getting better at hiding it from others._

Snape continued after a moment of silence where the girls looked at each other with identical winces and Draco remembered why his godfather was one of his favourite people. _He’s always stood up for me. Against my father. Against Aunt Bella. Against Dumbledore. Even against the Dark Lord._

“I suppose what I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt either of you to at least try and be civil to the boy. He doesn’t deserve your scorn. You’ve obviously demonstrated the ability to look beyond my past as a Death Eater, why can’t you do the same with him? He didn’t even have a choice about it, and I did.” Snape exhaled with a self-derisive huff. "I did, and how I regret it now."

Draco forgave Snape for luring Ginny into his bed, his chest hurting again for entirely different reasons than before. 

It didn’t hurt that the girls looked flat out shocked and remorseful.

“Professor,” Ginny said in a tone almost too low for Draco to hear as she stared at her captured arm as if that was the only part of Snape she could bear to face at the moment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of that, but that’s no excuse. You’re right about us; we have all treated Draco like rubbish, more so this last year than ever. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I promise I’ll do better.”

“As will I,” Granger added, but Draco barely heard her, so focused was he on his own thoughts.

 _Holy fucking Merlin,_ Draco was practically flabbergasted. _If it took getting Ginny into Snape’s bed to get her to see me as person and not a villain, then this might actually be worth it. Maybe I can look her up in a month or two after she’s had time to forget that she slept with Snape. Then I’ll see if she really meant what she just said._

After everyone had a sufficient amount of time to reflect, Snape drawled, “This is lovely and all, but if you two are no longer in the mood, I’d appreciate if you would untie me.”

Granger’s response of, “Oh, no, Sir. We’re just getting started. I’ve dreamt of having you at my mercy for years; there’s no way I’m letting you go already,” had Draco’s focus snapping back to the proceedings in the bedroom for only a moment before he decided he really didn’t want to see what happened next.

_I’ve already seen more than enough of my godfather’s cock, thank you very much._

He left the supply closet to the sound of Granger continuing with, “Ummmm, perhaps not always in quite such a… revealing… scenario. But my fantasies may have strayed in this direction of late.”

_Hunh. Granger might be a closet dominatrix. Why am I not surprised?_

The last thing Draco heard before he returned to the dungeon corridor was Ginny’s laughter.

The clear, joyful sound of it made Draco smile.

No longer feeling quite so ready to give up and sleep his life away, he turned right instead of towards his original destination of the Slytherin common room and aimed back for the outside world. He didn’t even flinch when he passed Blaise and Pansy on the stairs and they acted like he didn’t exist.

This time, Draco was going to find a quiet spot in the forest that used to terrify him (before his actual life had turned into a waking nightmare) and pen a long letter back to his father for a house-elf to deliver when Lucius Malfoy arrived for the Leaving Feast that night that Draco had no intentions of attending.

_And Father isn’t going to like it._


	8. Unselfish Envy

**A/N: The rehashing from Ginny’s perspective continues, per request. But I’ve left out nearly all of the details and conversation in the first part, so if you’re new to the story and want to read that, look up part 1 of the series. :D**

* * *

**Unselfish Envy:**

Ginny was feeling positively wicked after having undressed further (but not completely, leaving her stockings and knickers on) in front of her professor. Not to mention how she and Hermione were now ‘torturing’ him by exploring his body in the slowest possible way.

With every caress of her hands and lips over his lean and scarred body - that spoke of abuses she could barely fathom – inspiring the man to squirm and tremble, she was caught somewhere between fascination with such reactions from someone she used to think had no emotions other than cold disdain to his name, and a horrid glee at the ‘revenge’ she was enacting on him for every scathing remark he’d made to her face or on her painstakingly written essays. 

Her ‘revenge’ may not have been noticed all that much, though, by Snape, because he hardly spared her a glance most of the time. His midnight gaze, and perhaps even his entire being from soul to blood cells, were focused on Hermione as if she were the only witch in the universe. Which was terribly rude of him, but at the same time, made her heart ache with how bloody romantic it was.

_I want a wizard to look at me like that._

Not like they thought she was pretty and smart and worth a snog or two, as her previous boyfriends, Dean, Michael, and Harry, had all proved well enough. But like they couldn’t exist without her very essence in their life to make their heart beat and keep their lungs inflated as if oxygen just wasn’t enough.

It was a look that went beyond love that she’d only ever seen on one other couple before, and that was her parents. Her parents who were magically soulmated. 

A soulmate bond that was so rare, it was generally thought to be as elusive as the secret to eternal life.

That didn’t stop her from wanting a soul bond like that for herself, though, which is why she'd never been able to fully commit to her past boyfriends. She knew what she was missing and refused to settle, no matter how much she was sure she could have been happy with Harry or someone like him.

Happy just wasn’t enough.

She wanted what she was witnessing right in front of her eyes.

To any casual observer, it would just look like two girls pleasuring a man as their hands swept over his chest and legs and then lingered on his elegantly large feet (that most certainly compared accurately with the size of his nose and manhood). But in reality, it was one wizard and one witch learning and connecting to each other as a third witch provided moral support to her shyer friend only for as long as she was needed and not in the way. _And hopefully long enough to get that orgasm he promised me before I go. It’s been too bloody long since I had one that I didn’t do myself, which just aren’t as good somehow._

Snape called Hermione ‘My Own’, which Ginny thought was freaking adorable. He praised her slim form with words like ‘exquisite’ and eyes that drank her in as they burned with black fire. He asked, nay, begged, Hermione to call him Severus instead of Sir, as if he couldn’t bear to be anything but who he truly was for the first time in his life. And when she did, the wizard had actually smiled like he’d swallowed a sun or something, shocking Ginny even further, having never seen his lips curve upward anywhere near that high in seven whole years of schooling.

He even teased them with excellently acted words and a devilish sense of humour, which Ginny would have bet the Burrow on being something the professor had been devoid of before this.

In short, Severus Snape was an entirely new person now that he’d taken the second step with Hermione in activating a soul bond by initiating skin on skin contact for the first time today.

_At least, that’s what I’m assuming is happening here. And if it turns out I’m wrong, then I’ll eat my favourite hat because these two know-it-alls are so perfect for each other I don’t know how I didn’t see it before._

Regardless of the fact that Ginny was essentially acting as a second set of hands on Hermione’s behalf in their mutual quest to drive Snape up the wall with sensual torture, Ginny was enjoying herself immensely.

Exploring his body hadn’t been a hardship by any means, what with him looking like a page from a naughty fireman calendar or something. She’d never call Severus Snape conventionally handsome, but he was certainly striking in his features, colouring, and lean musculature that currently stood out in stark relief as he tensed against his bonds and what had to be an almost irresistible urge to come. (His straining, leaking cock, sweating body, and yelled, “GIRLS! DESIST! NOW! Or you will NOT like the consequences!” were a fairly good barometer, in her humble opinion.)

Since the consequences most likely included scrubbing dirty cauldrons by hand or writing yet another essay, despite the fact that he technically wasn’t their teacher anymore, they’d abandoned his highly sensitive feet and moved on. (His feet were astonishingly clean and well cared for and not the least bit repulsive to touch, much to her surprise and gratitude, which had inspired her to mention that she’d like her own wizard to have feet as nice as his one day.) That left only the grand finale of their ‘Exploration and Torture of Professor Snape’, as she was going to call this admittedly crazy and daring act in her mind from now on.

So now she was handling Snape’s exceedingly well endowed manhood – _seriously, it’s at least two inches longer than Harry’s –_ like she was kind of a pro at this and not the least bit as freaked out about what she was doing as she actually was. _It’s Snape’s freaking cock! I must be insane!_

_But I’m still touching it. And fondling things. And oh Circe! Now Hermione’s got me licking it too._

_At least he doesn’t taste funky like Harry did._

Her brain filter was gone, apparently, because she actually said something about poor Harry tasting like sardines out loud and then had to roll with it. Fortunately, that conversation was brief and they ended up both licking at Snape’s Tower while she giggled like mad at the name she'd just made up for a cock that certainly deserved the title as it currently was.

_And oooooo, touching him down there makes him squirm and gasp just like it did to Harry._

_Interesting. I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future. Almost makes me wish that I’d gone a little further with Dean and Michael so I’d know if this is a sensitive spot for all guys or if I just got lucky with the first two I’ve touched this way?_

_I guess I’ll find out the next time I decide to get this intimate with somebody._

_Geez, I still can’t believe I’m doing this with Snape._

And then there was suddenly a hand on her arse that was much too large to be Hermione’s (not that either of them were likely to venture into that kind of thing) and Ginny completely lost focus with what she was doing to his sensitive bits. _What the…_

Her wide-eyed gaze shot to Snape’s face to see him smirking wickedly and then to the bedposts just to confirm that he was no longer tied up. _Sneaky wanker was only letting us think we had any power here. Well played, Professor. Well played._

His hand was still on her arse. And his other on Hermione’s, she saw as she looked back at the cheeky appendage currently fondling her butt cheek. She narrowed her eyes at Snape and he raised an eyebrow in return at the same time as his fingers gave her a brief caress that ventured down towards her core.

_Oh. Is that what he wants? I suppose that’s fine then. Not likely he was going to give me an orgasm from just his mind, was he?_

Ginny nodded once. _Have at it, then. I expect this to be good._

He flashed her a grin is if he’d heard her thoughts (which she was fairly certain wasn’t possible without the use of a wand and some serious concentration), and his hand ventured under her knickers.

From that moment on, it was all Ginny could do to remember to lick at the cock in her hand every once in a while as the World’s Most Clever Fingers went to work on her most intimate places.

The long and slender digits coaxed true arousal back out of her in only moments with only a few sweeps and ventures of exploration.

She’d yet to go all the way with a guy, wanting to save that for her soulmate when she found him, but this wasn’t the first time a finger or two had gone spelunking in her hidden depths. (Her own being the first, of course.) Her maidenhead had been eradicated even before that, though, thanks to years of extreme broom riding that was nowhere near as dirty as it sounded. (Quidditch is a rough sport!)

Snape’s fingers, though, were certainly winning the award for Best Effort Yet. After warming her up for a bit via the more traditional location of her clit, he then played her g-spot like a virtuoso as his thumb was being every bit as daring as her own fingers had and circled like a feather over her nether entrance, sending shivers through her that probably better qualified as whole body shudders.

At some point, she let go of his cock so that she didn’t strangle it to death and just rested her forehead on this thigh to enjoy every moment of this to the fullest. She was also fairly certain that a constant stream of moans and pleas to Merlin were spewing from her mouth, but she honestly didn’t care at this point.

At least she wasn’t alone, because Hermione was also making enough satisfied noises to put a porn star to shame.

Her abdomen was coiling with the familiar tension of impending release. And Merlin, did she ever want it. Ginny chased the sensations eagerly as Snape somehow intensified the movements of his fingers while also returning some attention to her clit.

Her nerves wound up even tighter, tension in every muscle.

And then she was there.

Flying though the clouds without a broom.

She moaned through the bliss, sort of accidentally biting Snape’s thigh to stop an all-out scream. He somehow kept the pleasure thrumming through her for almost twice as long as she’d ever experienced and then those clever fingers of his were just petting her folds gently as she relaxed from the high.

Ginny was incredibly grateful, and in that moment, she swore to herself to never regret anything she’d just done with a former professor that clearly belonged to another witch. _They both wanted me here, so I’m going to treasure this as a one-off gift never to be repeated. But now I think it’s time for me to leave. Hermione and Snape should be alone for what I’m sure comes next._

She pulled away from Snape’s caressing hand at the same time as she reached back and grabbed his wrist. Then she brought his hand to her mouth and licked his fingers clean of her juices, feeling very naughty and daring as she did so. But as silly as it sounds, it didn’t feel right to leave anything of herself behind on a hand that she had no doubts would be touching Hermione the moment she let it go. _Actually…_

Snape blinked at her actions in clear surprise, and then he smiled at her in genuine amusement and approval. _For someone whose face used to be set in a fierce scowl more often than not, he’s also very good at conveying other emotions,_ she thought as she smiled back. 

When Ginny was done ensuring that none of her essence remained on his hand, even going so far as to think a silent _scourgify_ that swept over their joined hands with a swift tingle of magic, she very deliberately put Snape’s hand on the small of Hermione’s back to show him she wholeheartedly endorsed their relationship. The other girl was pretty much oblivious, since she was still chasing her own orgasm at the whim of Snape’s left hand with much vocal enthusiasm, but that didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was the gratitude she saw in the shining depths of the wizard’s beautiful obsidian eyes; eyes that she’d once thought were soulless and perhaps even gateways to the Darkest of evil magic.

How wrong she’d been.

Snape had a soul. And a heart. The heart of a hero, in fact. And he deserved to finally be happy.

She crawled forward and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to his jaw. “Thank you. That was fabulous,” she whispered into his ear. “I’m going now. I don’t think she needs me here anymore and I have a feeling you’re going to want to be alone for the next part if I’m right about what’s about to happen.”

Snape inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking to Hermione for a moment before returning to her. “You’re welcome, and thank you as well,” he whispered back. “And I sincerely hope you’re right. All the signs are there.”

Ginny smiled beatifically. _Merlin, am I glad to hear that!_ She kept her actual response a little more dignified, though, and decidedly more subdued than her mental cheer, saying only, “I thought so.”

They exchanged one last fleeting smile as she patted his bicep in farewell. And then she rolled off the massive bed. She kept her eyes on the covers and not on the couple out of respect as she located her tossed-aside wand and then hastily gathered up her clothes from the floor into a bundle before making her exit as quietly and unobtrusively as possible through the temporary door to the potions closet.

She closed the door almost all the way behind her, leaving only an inch-wide crack for light to emerge from, cast a silencing spell on the whole area so she didn’t eavesdrop on any more inspiring moaning or coupling sounds that were just making her want to find someone else to get frisky with, and then she walked out into the classroom and all but collapsed onto the first available chair.

It happened to be Snape’s desk chair, but she didn’t think he’d mind, considering they’d just been decidedly intimate with each other’s bodies.

_I still can’t believe I just did that with Snape. I could live to be five hundred and still not believe I did that with Snape. Merlin’s crooked old toes, this is going to take some serious processing to wrap my head around._

_And I can’t even tell anyone. Not when the secret is so important to other peoples’ future livelihoods._

_Luna would keep my secret, though. And she wouldn’t even think to judge. Maybe I can tell her._

_Or maybe I should just take the memory out of my head and put it in a vial labeled ‘Do Not View Until Snape Is No Longer a Professor’._

_That might work._

_But later. I want to savour this moment a little longer._

_And I’m supposed to be nicer to Malfoy now. If I remove the memory, I’ll forget that little fact._

_Would that be so bad?_ she thought petulantly, recalling all the times she’d witnessed the blond bully taunt or torment her friends and family.

_Maybe not, but he HAS changed since the war, it’s only fair that I do so as well._

Ginny huffed to herself, and then jumped to her feet as a chill from the frigid dungeon air caused a sudden whole-body shiver to nearly shake her off the chair. A quick warming charm with her wand took care of that, though, so she didn’t exactly rush as she covered herself in her uniform and robes. Not to mention, she was still feeling pleasantly languid and heavy-limbed from the recent orgasm.

During all of this, she’d been watching the open closet with curious anticipation, wanting to witness the rumoured results of a full soulmate bond enacted. Eventually, she settled on top of a desk to wait, not feeling right about sitting back down on Snape’s chair.

When said closet finally flashed with a golden glow, Ginny grinned to herself and left the potions classroom.

_I like being right. They ARE soulmates._

_And that golden glow thing is awesome. I hope I get to see it up close and personal someday._


	9. Realizations

**Realizations:**

Ginny strolled down the dungeon corridor towards the stairs, not in a particular hurry to get anywhere because she had nowhere in particular to be. It was too soon to start primping for the leaving feast tonight. Much too soon to pack for her final trip home. The free-for-all Quidditch game didn’t start for a couple more hours to accommodate the poor sods who had to sit through one more afternoon class. And Hermione was occupied shagging Snape. So that left Ginny with literally nothing to do.

Normally, she’d find some of her other friends to hang out with to gossip about boys or whatever, but after what she’d just done in Snape’s bed, Ginny didn’t feel much like pretending life was the same as it had been a couple hours ago.

As she started climbing the stairs, she resolved that she’d just go to her dorm and have a lie down until it was time to go kick some asses with her broom. Namely, Ron’s and Harry’s. _Those immature dunderheads deserve to have some sense knocked into them with a bludger or two._ She still couldn’t believe how badly her brother had acted in Snape’s class. _Wouldn’t have blamed Snape if he finally snapped and gave in to the urge to murder one of his students._

_Would have been an interesting one to explain to Mum, that’s for…_

_Hey, what’s that?_

Ginny had spotted a rolled up ball of paper on the step currently at eye level.

_Why do people have to litter? How hard is it to find a rubbish bin or whip out your wand and vanish it?_

Grumbling about pampered Slytherins under her breath, Ginny pulled her wand from the pocket of her robe and nearly vanished the paper for whoever had tossed it so carelessly on the stairs, but at the last second, a frisson of curiosity had her grabbing the paper instead.

She shot the abused paper with a restoring spell and it uncurled itself to its former pristine condition. It turned out to be a picture of a witch. A very sad and very unattractive witch who looked even worse than Snape had during her Sixth year. The woman in the magical photo was so depressed that she barely moved on her paper, her eyes only flicking up for a moment before returning to her contemplation of something lower.

“Wow,” Ginny said to the photo sympathetically. “You’ve had a tough life, haven’t you, whoever you are.” _Probably a distant cousin or something to one of the Snakes._ “How bout I put you out of your misery?”

On its endless loop, the witch in the photo flicked her dark eyes up at Ginny again as if in agreement.

Taking that for whatever it was, Ginny vanished the photo with a flick of her wand.

Tucking her wand back away, she continued up the stairs, still intending to make for her dorm room, but as she wandered down one of the many hallways on the hike back to Gryffindor Tower, she saw a door to the outside and suddenly she felt drawn to go through it. Staring at the door for a second, she shrugged and opened it. _Why not? I could certainly use some fresh air. Clear my head of the Snape vibes._

So she stepped out into the early afternoon sunlight and drew in a deep breath of the refreshing mountain and summer scented air. The landscape around her was blooming with greenery, and the giant hill that loomed above the castle bristled with evergreen trees. From this side of the castle, she couldn’t see the lake, but she had no doubt that many of the students were already playing in it, taking advantage of one of the few school days where it was warm enough to do so without freezing their arses off.

Ginny didn’t feel much like joining the swimmers either, so she turned her attention to the forest that bordered the castle grounds. Technically, the Forbidden Forest was off limits to students without a teacher being present, but Ginny had spent so much time with Hagrid in its depths serving ‘detentions’ last year that the dangers within didn’t faze her anymore.

And the forest was calling to her.

Letting her feet continue to lead the way, Ginny descended the stone steps that cut into the hill and then jogged down the rest of the slope, allowing gravity to make it fun. Laughing a little when she reached the bottom, she slowed back to a walk and sauntered past Hagrid’s hut as if she had every right to aim for prohibited territory.

She was still smiling when she walked under the first tree and the bright daylight suddenly faded away to a more threatening twilight. Ginny ignored the chill that chased up her spine – an automatic reflex to the wards set on the edge of the forest designed to scare off the younger students and hopefully prevent them from getting themselves lost and eaten – and found the faint pathway through the woods that she’d hiked many times.

Walking amongst the ancient trees, Ginny found a sense of peace that the halls of Hogwarts had never provided for her. With her being possessed by Tom Riddle’s journal practically right off the bat in her first year, the school had become a place to be endured, the haunting and horrific memories never really leaving her alone. But the forest… The forest was a different entity entirely. While also being dangerous, there was nothing living there that she couldn’t handle, she had no bad memories within it, and the freedom found under the high canopy of boughs was exactly what she needed to unwind from long days of studying or boyfriend stress.

About fifteen minutes of hiking down the path and a short jaunt off to the right when she passed a certain tree with a split trunk, there was a clearing filled with wildflowers and purple heather where the sunlight found a break in the canopy. It was her favourite place near Hogwarts, and maybe even her favourite place in all of Great Britain.

Because it was hers alone.

_Or not…_

Ginny came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the clearing and glared daggers at the interloper who’d found her haven. His name came out like a growl in her throat as her hands planted on her hips in annoyance. “Malfoy.”

The boy’s white-blond head whipped up and his eyes widened comically. “Weaslette!” He leapt to his feet, dumping quill, parchment, and bookbag down to the grass. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be…” he cut himself off, pressing his lips together tightly.

While she was vaguely curious as to what he thought she’d be doing right now, she was more concerned with the invasion of HER quiet place. She stalked towards him and glared up into his face. “I’m here because this is MY place, Malfoy. What the hell are you doing in it?”

Finally losing his shocked look, he glared back down at her. “Your place, Princess? I think not. This is MY place! I’ve been coming here for years!”

Wishing she was standing on higher ground or something, Ginny silently cursed the last growth spurt that had turned Draco into a tall drink of sexy… _Shite. I did not just think that._ “Well, so have I!”

They stared at each other for a minute at least, neither backing down. And then Draco surprised her by suddenly laughing, throwing his head back and everything.

“What?” she demanded, poking him in the chest. “What’s funny?!”

He looked back down at her again, a grin splitting his face and flashing his perfect white teeth at her as he caught her hand and held it surprisingly gently. Almost caressingly even. The strangest shock of electricity ran up her arm from his touch, inspiring her to snatch her hand back immediately. _Which I would have done anyway_ , she assured herself.

“Us,” he said, after blinking at his own hand for a second as if he'd felt the same thing, and then shrugged it off as a random occurrence of static.

_Which it undoubtedly was._

“We’re funny," he continued. "Fighting over a patch of grass and flowers in a magical forest, as if we could actually own them.”

Disconcerted by the weird hand holding, the static, his sudden good mood, and his logical explanation for it, Ginny basically snarled, “Yes, well. Be that as it may. You’re still in my place, and I think you should leave!”

Draco huffed a snort and turned back to his things. “I think not. I was here first, Princess. You can either live with that and share the clearing, or find someplace else to go.”

And with that, he sank back down to the grass gracefully into a cross-legged position and picked up his bookbag again, using it as a table of sorts for his writing. Then he started scribbling away again as if she wasn’t there.

Ginny gawked at the boy for a moment, both surprised and not at his cocksure audacity. Then she huffed as well, but hers was of the exasperated kind that she’d heard her mother make a million times to the males in her family. Her first inclination was to stomp off in an epic show of discontent, but then she thought of something even better.

_If he wants to share the space, then that’s what I’m going to do._

_And why the hell does he keep calling me Princess? It's weird!_

Ginny marched up to Draco and copied his position on the grass, only a foot or so in front of him. And then she stared at him like she could fry him with her eyes.

The jerk didn’t even bother to acknowledge her, but his mouth might have twitched a fraction. Or maybe she imagined it.

Aside from an occasional bird call and the whisper of a breeze in the treetops above, the only sound in the clearing was the soft scratch of the quill on the parchment as he made notes, crossed out a few things, and wrote some more.

It didn’t take Ginny long to realize that she’d picked the wrong option. Because, while he had something to occupy himself and thus ignore her, she had nothing to do but stare at him and come to the conclusion that his features were practically flawless.

The sunlight was lovingly dancing over his face as he concentrated on what he was doing, illuminating flawless pale skin even lighter than her own and making his hair shine like a cross between champagne and silver. He had pale eyelashes that swept like thick fans over his cheekbones as he looked down. (Because of how light they were, she’d never even noticed he had eyelashes before, but sitting this close, and with the sunlight helping, she couldn’t help but admire them.) His nose was as perfectly sculpted as a nose could get. His ears as elegant as she’d ever seen. His forehead, broad and clear, save for a tiny furrow line from concentration. His lips were a perfect bow and a tempting shade of pink. His clean-shaven jaw much less pointy than it used to be and now just firm and manly.

_He’s honestly too beautiful for his own good._

_And yet… He’s gone the entire school year without a single date as far as I know. The girls grapevine would never be so remiss as to forget to mention if someone had gone out with him. Which means he must be feeling mighty lonely._

Not liking the suddenly sympathetic bent to her thoughts, she deliberately made herself think meaner ones.

 _But he deserves to be so! He was a Death Eater! And he nearly killed Katie! And Ron! And…_ her thoughts stumbled on Dumbledore’s name, derailing her indignation. Because Snape was the one who’d actually killed the beloved Headmaster. And Snape had been a Death Eater. And Snape had only done it all because he’d had to, not because he’d wanted to. Draco, by all accounts, had been trapped in the same sinking boat. _Everyone forgave Snape. Calls him a hero. Why can’t we at least do half that for Malfoy?_

And so her gaze gradually morphed from pissed off glare to contemplative. Ginny found herself studying his features anew, now seeing the faint lines of stress ingrained in his skin that should never be imbedded in a nineteen year old boy. She also saw someone who’s bearing and pride refused to be broken, despite all of the hell he’d been through in the last few years.

She mentally put herself in his shoes and nearly flinched at just the first thought. The rest had her wincing in sympathy within moments. 

_He lost his father to Azkaban for a year. Had to endure the presence of Voldemort in his house for who knows how long. Was forced to try and murder Dumbledore or watch his mother be tortured and killed. Lost her anyway in the war. And he’s been ostracized by his peers ever since. Merlin, they even refused to let him play in his rightful place as Seeker on the Slytherin team this year. Honestly, most people would be a fucking mess after that. But he’s still walking tall and succeeding at everything he does, only second to Hermione for marks, and that’s not something to be ashamed of. No one beats Hermione but Hermione._

_And maybe Snape,_ she added with a flicker of a smile to herself.

Shifting a little, she rested her chin on her fist and broke off a few blades of grass. She tossed them at Draco so they landed on his parchment, and asked, “Watcha writing?”

Startled, Draco looked up at her, his grey eyes looking even more silver than his hair in the sunlight. “Why do you care?”

Ginny shrugged and threw a daisy at him, just for the fun of it. “Why not? If you’re going to make me share my space, we might as well be friendly about it.”

Draco blinked at her a couple times, and then the most glorious, genuine smile of joy crossed his face, transforming him from ice sculpture perfection to warm, gorgeous, and someone for the first time since she'd met him she might actually be willing to get to know. Maybe even more than willing. 

It was a startling realization.

And one that Harry and Ron would probably hate her for.

She also realized that she didn’t care.

_My weird day just got weirder._


	10. Bonds Discovered

**Bonds Discovered:**

With Ginny staring at him, Draco couldn’t remember what he’d meant to write, not to mention actually put his original thoughts down on the parchment. Which meant that the rough copy of the letter he was working on to his father went from being ‘rough’ to ‘complete and utter gibberish’. But he kept pretending to write anyway because, what else was he supposed to do?

_Admit defeat and leave?_

_Not fucking likely._

Aside from the fact that she’d randomly shown up in what was supposed to be his secret place, he was also basically in shock that she wasn’t in his godfather’s bed right now, getting shagged to within an inch of her life by a… better than average cock he was determined to not be envious of.

 _Mine’s not exactly underwhelming either,_ he thought with a mental sniff.

_I wonder if she left of her own accord or if Uncle Sev kicked her out._

_I hope it’s the first. I hope it’s because she came to her senses and realized she didn’t actually want to be touched be a wizard old enough to be her father._

_Unless I ask Snape later I’ll probably never know. And it’s not likely…_

The sudden appearance of grass on his parchment pulled Draco from his thoughts. He looked up at the girl who’d decided to torment him with her presence just as she asked, “Watcha writing?”

As cute as she looked with her chin resting on her fist and her chocolate eyes glittering at him with reflected sunlight, he still couldn’t help but snarl out, “Why do you care?” (Okay, there was probably some lingering resentment from the jealousy of seeing her in Snape’s bed.)

She shrugged, plucked a daisy and tossed it at him. He only raised an ire-filled eyebrow as it bounced off his chest and landed on his parchment. “Why not? If you’re going to make me share my space, we might as well be friendly about it.”

 _What?! Did she just offer a truce? No way._ Draco stared at her, looking for deception in her eyes and found none. He wasn’t a highly skilled Legilimens like Snape, but he had, out of necessity, learned how to read people without actually using magic to do it. (Having a moody Dark Lord and all of his lying and backstabbing minions living in or visiting one’s house would do that.)

 _She’s actually sincere. Merlin. Maybe I have a chance of surprising Father tonight after all._ Draco found himself beaming at Ginevra Weasley like she’d just invented the first flying broom and presented it to him as a gift. “Thank you,” he said with more sincerity in his tone than he’d used in a long time.

Now it was Ginny who was blinking at him like he’d just done something unfathomable, but her expression quickly turned into a returning smile. “You’re welcome.” She tilted her head a fraction and she sat up a little straighter as she gave up holding her head up with her fist. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you thank anyone before.”

Draco grimaced slightly and averted his eyes from her searching ones, staring blankly at his parchment as he twirled his quill between his fingers. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to try and explain himself to her, so he did. “I know I was a right git who walked around like I owned the world, but I also felt like I had absolutely nothing to be thankful for here, if that makes sense. I hated this school from day one and I only ever wanted to get out of it as soon as possible. For a time, I thought if I was obnoxious enough, Dumbledore would send me home and tell them not send me back.”

“That obviously didn’t work,” Ginny said as he paused to take a breath. He glanced up to see her studying him with curiosity and even a little sympathy, which gave him the courage to continue.

“No, it didn’t. And then Potter grew to be so fucking famous for not actually doing all that much other than surviving stuff if you think about it, and the whole school turned into a Potter fan club even more than it already was and I hated it here even more. Made my day when he was suddenly ostracized for the whole name in the Goblet of Fire thing.” Ginny made a slight choking noise, but he forged on, not looking at her because he didn’t want to see any censure in her eyes. “Then he was a champion and everybody loved him again as my world was being turned upside down at home. I promise you, I’ve said, ‘Thank you, My Lord’ about a thousand times all while pretending to actually mean it because my life and my parents’ lives depended on it, so if I never said thank you to anyone at school after that either, it was because the words were like needles on my tongue.”

A finely shaped hand suddenly appeared in his line of sight and came to rest on his forearm. “Draco…” His eyes shot to hers and he only found more sympathy in the depths of hers. And understanding. Actual understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He had no desire to shake off her hand like his stupider, younger self would have. He flashed a pathetic, crooked smile at her. “It’s okay. I’m just glad that part of my life is over. And as for this last year… well, school still sucks to the extreme and I have yet to feel like anyone deserved my thanks except for Snape, but you would never be around to see that, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, not likely,” she laughed once and drew her hand back into her lap before it got too awkward. He found that he missed her touch, even if it was just on top of his sleeve. Her expression hardened slightly under the new warmth she’d shown him. “While I’m not going to condone how you acted to my friends and family all these years, I think I can forgive you for it. I understand hating school because I hate it too. I understand how depressing it feels to be cast in the shadows of Harry’s fame. I understand how terrifying it is to be under Voldemort’s control because I literally was. And I’m sorry the world has dumped you in the villain box even though you were actually a victim. Unfortunately you’re rich and good looking, which makes them automatically envy you. And envy so easily turns to hate.”

If Draco hadn’t been utterly, inexplicably, infatuated with her before, he was now. _(And she thinks I'm good looking!)_ He adopted her chin-on-fist pose and gazed at her like she might just be an angel. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really smart and beautiful and caring and talented and far too good to be real?”

Ginny’s eyes widened and she leaned away from him a little in shock. “Ummmmm, a boyfriend or two in the past may have mentioned a few of those things at some point or another, but I don’t think anyone’s put it quite that way.” Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion that he honestly couldn’t blame her for. Draco hardly even recognized himself right now. “Why?”

He shrugged. “It has just occurred to me that I might have fallen asleep in the sun and that this is all a dream. One of the best I’ve ever had, even, because all I’ve ever wanted is for someone to actually understand me. The only person who even comes close is Snape, and, well, he’s not exactly the snuggly conversationalist type.”

She stared at him for two seconds in complete silence as even the wind in the trees seemed to pause for breath, and then she was laughing, sounding like bells to his ears.

“That wasn’t meant to be funny,” he said dryly, putting his writing off to the side and leaning back on his hands while she continued to laugh. Some little part of him thought he should be offended, but the rest of him was more fascinated with studying her face and how the sunlight and shadows danced across her skin and brilliant red hair as she moved.

_Merlin’s toes. Even if this is a dream, it’s still the best thing to happen to me in ages._

* * *

Ginny wasn’t sure why she found Draco’s last line ridiculously funny, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that Snape was probably snuggling and conversing with Hermione right now.

_Or going for round two._

That last thought was sobering enough that she was able to regain control of herself. Through a few last wheezes, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”

Draco raised one of his perfect eyebrows. “Care to let me in on the joke, then?”

She shook her head. “You probably wouldn’t believe me even if I did.”

“Try me.”

Catching the dare in his tone, she tilted her head in acknowledgment. “Fine. What if I said that at this very moment, Snape is more than likely in bed with his wife and undoubtedly having a very interesting conversation.”

Draco didn’t scoff as she expected him to, but sat up abruptly with wide eyes. “Did you say wife?”

“I did.”

“Not possible. He would have told me. And you, you were…” Draco cut himself off abruptly. Which reminded her that he’d implied earlier that he expected her to be somewhere else. _And he didn’t seem shocked by the in bed part, considering Snape is currently at school where he shouldn’t be in bed with anybody._

A sneaking suspicion started to form. “I was what?” she demanded.

Draco flushed and turned his attention to the flowers with a sudden intensity that told her all she needed to know. But his muttered words confirmed it. “There with them.”

Ginny saw red for a moment as anger swelled within her. She pushed him hard on the shoulder, so that he ended up catching himself back on his hands again. “You! You were spying on us, weren’t you?!”

His flush deepened and he nodded once, righting himself again. He only met her eyes for a second before the flowers became his main focus once more. “Only for a minute or two,” he said quickly. “And only because I heard noises coming from his classroom. Then I found the new door in the closet to his bedroom and couldn’t help but be curious.”

Ginny had to give him that. She would have done the same. But she still demanded, “What did you see?”

Astonishingly, Draco managed to redden even further. Even the tips of his ears flushed to the colour of cherries. “Not that much, I swear! I saw you and Granger kissing Snape’s arms, still dressed in your uniforms. And I saw more than I ever wanted to of my Godfather’s tied up person. That’s it. And after that, you were talking, mostly. About me. Then I left.”

In that moment, Ginny decided that it was best that Draco never know that she’d undressed down to her underwear and let Snape finger her to a climax. Why, she couldn’t say for sure, but something in her didn’t want to hurt him with the knowledge. “I left too, not long after that.”

His eyes shot up to hers, astonishment in the now steel grey depths. _Funny, I never noticed his eyes could change colour before. Must be tied to his emotions._

It took him a second, but then he asked, “Why? You seemed to be enjoying yourself from what I saw.”

Ginny felt her face heat. “I was, I guess. It was never really my idea to be there, though. I was just giving Hermione moral support. And I left because they were forming a soulmate bond right in front of me and they really didn’t need me there for that.”

His eyes went wide, almost comically so. “You’re sure?”

Ginny grinned on behalf of her friend. “Yep. I could practically see the magical sparks between them. And - this is a little embarrassing - but I stayed in the classroom while they were getting busy and watched the closet until it glowed gold.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed, head shaking slowly back and forth in amazed disbelief. “Magical soulmates. I thought that was just a myth.”

“It’s not. My parents are soulmates.”

Draco gawked at her for a moment before he remember to close his mouth with a snap. “No way.”

“Way,” she grinned.

“Hunh.” A slow grin formed on his lips that made her heart stutter for some reason. And his eyes shone silver again as he looked at her. “No wonder you have so many siblings.”

It took her a moment, but then she was laughing again. “Yeah.”

“Magical chemistry is irresistible, I guess,” he continued, still teasing. But then he blinked once and a mask of pain settled on his face before his expression became more neutral as his shoulders slumped slightly. He clenched a handful of grass and ripped it out of the ground before throwing it. “Something I’m sure I’ll never feel,” he muttered.

Ginny looked at him with concern. That flash had been more than just the average longing for something every witch and wizard wished they could have. “What is it, Draco? Why do you seem so defeated?”

His eyes, when he looked at her again, where thundercloud grey and made her heart hurt. “Father’s making an arranged marriage for me with an older witch that I’ve never even met. From Russia.”

And now her heart broke for him for sure, because Ginny couldn’t imagine being forced into a marriage that she didn’t want. “Oh, Draco, I’m sorry.” Leaning forward, she put her hand on his to stop him from tearing out more grass by the roots that didn’t deserve the abuse. “Maybe you can…” Ginny froze suddenly in midsentence, then looked down at their hands as frissons of electricity travelled up her arm. “Do you…” she whispered. “Do you feel that?”

Draco looked at her with huge eyes as he nodded and gulped. “Yeah. I do. There’s no way… Is there?”

Ginny swallowed hard too, her body started to tremble faintly with shock. She curled her fingers under his and raised their hands up, grasping his fingers hard. The magical shocks jolted in response and she gasped, dropping his hand like it had burnt her. “Merlin,” she breathed.

Draco lifted his also trembling hand up to hover by her face, his eyes locked on hers. “May I?”

Mutely, she nodded her consent, and he turned his hand to touch the back of his fingers to her cheek with no more pressure than a butterfly would make. Her skin tingled nonetheless in a way she’d never felt before from others who’d touched her the same way. “Draco,” she whispered, raising her hand to hold his hand to her face. Pleasant shocks travelled down her arm again. “I think we’re…”

His perfectly sculpted lips parted on a sharp inhale, and then he whispered back, “Yeah, I think we are too.”

* * *

**A/N: So I have some news.**

**I'm now unemployed. Because I've moved. I have another job lined up, but it doesn't start until April at the earliest, which means I'll have lots and lots of time to write for you guys. That's the good news. The bad news is that after cleaning stalls and taking care of horses for 26 years, I feel it's time to try and do something a little more meaningful with my life before I kick the bucket and my headstone says, 'Here Lies the World’s Best Stall Cleaner'.**

**What I really want to be is a full-time writer. I'd prefer to just write fanfics for you all, but it's already been proven to me that that just isn't possible. So I've started the process of converting as many of my stories as I can into original works and have set up a website where you all can continue reading your favourite stories in a somewhat different version for a small fee. (50 cents a chapter or $5 for an entire finished story is what I'm currently thinking. Anyone agree with me that this sounds fair?)**

**I’ll also continue picking away at the fanfics that I can’t convert because they’re just too strongly based on canon, but probably not as often as you’re used to. (Which is already months between updates because of how many stories I have, lol.)**

**If there's anyone out there who'd prefer that I write your fanfics full-time as they are instead, well... you know what to do. And if you don't, pm me. My Facebook page, TheLoneRebel’s Stories, will have updates and new information as it becomes available.**


	11. First Date (part 1)

**This longer than average chapter is my very first Coffee Power Up commission! Everyone say thank you to Lidija for requesting that this story be bumped back to the top of the list!**

* * *

**First Date (part 1):**

If it weren’t for the fact that’d he’d never felt his magic stir in his veins in quite this way before, Draco would, without doubt, believe that this was only a dream.

But his magic was doing a happy dance through his bloodstream and he was currently close enough to Ginny to count every faint freckle decorating the creamy skin of her face (freckles he hadn’t even known she had thanks to their geographic location and mostly indoor lifestyle that rarely saw enough real sunshine to make her freckles darken), so he could only conclude that this was real.

_Which means that I have a soulmate. An actual soulmate that no one but myself can take away from me._

_Which means that I better not fuck this up and chase her away._

_And how do I do that? I always manage to fuck things up._

_I don’t know, but a good start would undoubtedly include not pouncing on her like a mindless beast, regardless of how satisfying my cock thinks that might be right now. I am a pureblood gentleman and I can bloody well act like one._

And so Draco used a rather epic amount of self control and pulled his hand away from her cheek and out from under her hand. He clenched both his hands into fists in his lap to stop himself from touching her again… from cradling her lovely face in his hands and holding her still as he explored the hidden depths of her mouth with his tongue to find out if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. Adopting his best ‘hopeful but not too pathetically so’ smile, he asked, “Soooo, how do you want to handle this? Do you want a soulmate? Do you mind if it’s me? Would you rather we pretend this never happened? What?”

As Ginny stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds, his only thought was, _Please don’t pick the last option. Please don’t pick the last option. Please don’t pick the last option._

And then her mouth parted to speak and his whole body froze, heart, lungs, thoughts, and all. “I… I’ve always wanted a soulmate. With my whole being, in fact. I’ve always wanted what my parents have, which is one of the main reasons why I broke up with Harry. I knew I could easily love him for my whole life and be happy enough, but I would always know that there was something more out there that would make it so much better, and that just wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

She paused, eyes leaving his to look at the flowers around her as Draco gulped and wondered where this was going to end up as far as THEY were concerned. (He didn't care a rats ass about her past relationship with Potter right now.) She leaned over and plucked two of the unique black velvet petunias that had been his mother’s favourite flower and showed them to him. One was perfect in every way, looking like the ideal version of itself, while the other was slightly lopsided with petals shorter on one half than the other. His mind said he should admire the perfect flower more, but his eyes were drawn to the imperfect one, liking how it had more character. Ginny gently stroked the beautiful petunia in her fingers, looking at it mournfully as she did so. “My relationship with Harry was like this flower. On the surface, an illusion of everything that I should want – love, stability, shared interests, and so on.”

Draco hummed an agreement as she tossed the perfect flower aside and she held out the imperfect one for him take. He grasped it between two fingers carefully, hope rising as she continued. “But this flower is more like my parents – passionate, determined, complete opposites in some ways but the same in others – and that’s what I want.” Her eyes left the flower and locked on his. “I want the second flower, Draco, and if that’s you, I want to find out.”

He swallowed hard, fingers clenching on the stem of the soft black flower. “And how… how do you want to do that?”

She smiled at him, slow and sweet, with just a hint of mischief underneath to stir his blood again. “I want you to take me on your ideal date. I want to get to know you, the real you, not the stuck up persona you show to the world. I want to find out if we have more than magical chemistry but real life chemistry too. I want to know if you’re someone I would look forward to living the rest of my life with. I want to know what your favourite things are, how you are with kids and animals, what you like to do for fun. Things like that.”

Draco found that he wanted to know the same things about her. Aside from the surface facts like that she was a Gryffindor, was passionate about Quidditch, was talented with a wand, and was smart enough to earn top marks in school, he didn’t know all that much about the real Ginevra Weasley. “That sounds perfect to me,” he told her in a tone that came out huskier than it should have; she was making him so emotional right now.

“Good,” she grinned. “And after all that, if we decide that we like each other enough, I wouldn’t mind exploring this magical chemistry thing we have going on too.”

His mind flashed with celebratory fireworks for a second or two, and then Draco was grinning back at her. “I would most definitely be up for that as well.”

She sniggered. “I bet.”

“Hey,” he protested mildly, just on principle. “My godfather can’t be the only one finally getting lucky around here. I have to salvage some of my pride you know.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. “Wizards, all the same, only thinking with their wands.”

If her tone wasn’t blatantly teasing, he might have been worried that he'd offended her. As is, he shrugged and rolled with it, mentally crossing his fingers that it was the right thing to do. “Fact of life I’m afraid.”

She snorted. “I already discovered that. Good thing it doesn’t bother me.” He did a quick mental happy dance as she popped up to her feet suddenly and held her hand for him. “Come on then, Malfoy, time to impress me.”

Draco accepted her hand, savouring the sparks of sensation that came with the contact, and let her pull him to his feet. He smiled with many teeth showing as they stood face to face. “I can do that. Starting with…” Her fiery eyebrows rose as he tucked the somewhat rumpled daisy stem into her hair above her ear and then glued it there with a quick sticking charm mumbled under his breath. “…This.” He studied her seriously. “It suits you, princess. Unique and ethereal, but strong and tenacious.”

* * *

_Well, I’m impressed already. Boy’s got moves._

Ginny brushed her long hair behind her other ear as she felt her cheeks heat under the intensity of his silver gaze. “Thank you,” she said, accepting his compliment as graciously as she could. “I have to ask, though. Why do you call me princess now? You started before you even knew that we could be…”

Draco flushed too (something they were doing a ridiculous amount of) and dropped his gaze to his shoes as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. “Truth?”

“Of course.”

He glanced up at her for a second. “It’s kind of complicated.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You must know that only increases my curiosity, so talk.”

He huffed in amusement. “Okay, but let’s get moving first. I know exactly where I want to take you on our date and we need to leave the school boundaries to do it.”

She nodded her agreement to his invitation that included breaking school rules and he turned away to gather up his writing things and bookbag, stuffing the former into the later. His silver hilted (and wasn't that so Draco) hawthornwood wand appeared in his hand from what she assumed was a forearm holster, which was kind of hot, and with a flick of his wand, he shrunk his entire bag down to the size of a mouse and then stuffed it into the pocket of his black robe. His wand disappeared back up his sleeve and then he offered her his right hand for holding, that little boy look of hope in his eyes again that he’d used on her earlier.

Ginny stared at it for a long second. It was a forward and daring move, but she admired his courage to ask for such an intimacy so quickly. _But then again, if we're going on a date, it doesn’t seem that farfetched after all._ She reached out and took his hand, smiling softly when he inhaled in pleased surprise. Her fingers felt right in his as he grasped hers back. They stared at each other for a few seconds, eyes searching, and then he smiled at her with that charming crooked smile and started walking them out of the clearing.

And as they walked, he talked. He told her about the letter he received from his father this morning telling him about his arranged marriage. He temporarily let go of her hand to show her a picture of the witch in question (which weirdly turned out to be the same picture she’d seen on the dungeon stairs, but a different copy). Told her about noticing her in class today like he’d never seen her before (which was strange, but she felt the same, as if she was seeing Draco clearly for the first time in her life as well). Admitted – very reluctantly - about his idea to ask her or pay her to pretend to go out with him during the feast tonight so that his father would let up on the arranged marriage thing. (She didn’t know how to feel about that yet.) And finally, told her about asking Snape for help and being told to be nicer, which he’d tried in his own messed up way to do at lunch time. (And now she felt bad about how she’d yelled at him for it and told him so. Draco only shrugged, saying he was used to it, which made her feel worse.)

During all of that, they’d made their way out of the Forbidden Forest and then walked down the hill to the main perimeter gates. If anyone saw them walking with their hands joined - and didn’t first die of shock that they were walking amicably together in the first place – she honestly didn’t care if they blabbed it to the rest of the school. _Let them talk. We’re all leaving in the morning anyway._

As they stepped through the anti-apparition and protection wards surrounding Hogwarts, Ginny felt them shiver over her skin more clearly than ever before, further increasing her belief that Draco was her magical soulmate, because that was one of the signs; an increase in natural talents.

Coming to a stop outside the gates (where they technically shouldn’t be, but it was their last day of school, so who cared if they broke the rules now?), Ginny turned so she stood in front of Draco. “You know, after all that, you still haven’t actually told me why you’re calling me princess instead of Weaslette now.”

His head tilted slightly “Haven’t I?”

“Hmmm, not really.”

“Could have swore I did.”

“Not that I noticed.”

He huffed. “I thought it was part of the ‘be nicer to you’ step.”

“I don’t think so.”

His pale eyebrows rose. “How is that not being nicer to you?”

“Okay, technically, yes, that is being nicer. But what made you choose that word specifically?”

His eyebrows managed to rise higher. “How should I know? It just came to me, I guess, because you’re one of the Gryffindor Princesses.”

Now her eyebrows rose. “So you meant it in a mocking way?”

Draco reared back a fraction. “What! No! Why would you think… Oh.”

She almost giggled at the comical look of horror on his face. “Yes, oh. In the past, you would have used the term derogatorily, no question.”

“I… yes,” he admitted, looking ashamed. But then his head popped back up and he was squeezing her hand hard to convey his sincerity. “But not this time, I swear! It’s meant as a… As a…”

“As a what?” she encouraged when he seemed to have gotten stuck, staring at her with some sort of realization going on in his mind.

“As an endearment,” he whispered as if he could hardly believe it himself. “I’ve been falling hard and fast for you before I even knew that we could be soulmates.”

Ginny’s heart melted a little, making her chest ache. _I might be falling hard and fast for him too._

Feeling as though his declaration deserved a reward of some sort, she rose on her toes and kissed his cheek with a lingering touch, making his breath catch in surprise. “Thank you for being honest,” she whispered against smooth skin she was sure wouldn’t dare grow unwanted whiskers to mar the clean cut look he was going for. (He also smelled amazing, like earth and sunlight and sandalwood.) Ginny felt her insides melt further, but this time, decidedly lower.

* * *

While he was surprised by her sweet kiss, Draco was never one to pass up an opportunity when it presented itself.

He wrapped his free arm around her narrow waist and tugged her a fraction closer. Leaning down, he brushed his own lips over the smooth line of her jaw as if by accident and then whispered in her ear, “You’re welcome. I find I don’t mind being honest with you.”

Which was strangely true, considering he’d spent most of his life living a lie of some sort or another. Lying was second nature to him now, whether it be about pretending loyalty to someone he loathed or to himself about how he was perfectly fine with the life he’d been born into and never asked for. Honestly, he’d be much happier playing Quidditch professionally for as long as he could as opposed to living his life of ‘privilege’ as the Malfoy heir that came with an obscene amount of duties and expectations. (‘Galleons can’t be replicated by wands, you know,’ his father had informed him countless times as he grew up, usually when he caught Draco reading in the library, and would then ‘ask’ Draco to come to the office and help with the Malfoy business ledgers or quietly observe an important floo call meeting.)

Ginny’s free hand had flown up between them and she was now pressing on his chest, but not quite enough to actually indicate she wanted to be freed. Leaning back on his supporting arm a little, her expression went from surprised to curious as she studied his face. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Sensing another opportunity to score another point in his favour, Draco raised their still joined hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles with the same lingering touch she’d used on his cheek. He then met her eyes solemnly and vowed, “I promise I’ll always tell you the truth whenever I can. There will inevitably be things I cannot or do not want to talk about, but I’ll say that when it comes up.”

Her fingers shifted slightly on his chest, almost as if she was petting or soothing him before she made them stop. She inclined her head in a small nod of acknowledgment. “Fair enough.” And then her eyes lit up with that familiar teasing twinkle he was growing to adore. “What about when I undoubtedly one day ask you if the dress robes I’m wearing make me look fat?”

He smirked. “That one’s easy. Nothing you wear, nor any extra delicious curves you may gain, would ever make you look less than perfect to me.”

Ginny huffed out a laugh. “You ARE good, just like all the girls used to say back when you were the catch of the school.”

Draco flashed her a lopsided grin. “What can I say? I’m a Malfoy. The art of compliments, insults, and arse-kissing is taught from birth.”

“So I’ve observed,” she said dryly. She shifted back a bit further and pushed on his chest a fraction harder. “Do you think you could let me go now?”

Normally, he would have done so at the first subtle move of her body that said she was ready to be free, but he had one more thing to say before he could do that. “In a moment. Can I Apparate you to our date first? It’s much easier to bring you with me if I’m holding you.”

* * *

Having been held by her parents in the past during side-along Apparitions, Ginny knew this to be true. She relaxed back towards his chest. “Sure. If you’re taking me somewhere I’ve never been before.”

He flashed her a cocky and relieved smile as he let go of her hand and wrapped his second arm behind her back, hugging her even closer to his hard chest. (Her breasts and things south of her belly button thought this was a great idea.) “I’d be very surprised if you had been. Hang on tight now,” he warned, only giving her enough time to quickly grab his robe in both hands before they were spinning into the sucking, nauseating mode of transportation that was more or less outright teleportation and one only the strongest of witches and wizards used with any confidence.

They reappeared with a pop in a wooded area, the sun still shining brightly overhead. Ginny clung to Draco as the world continued twirling madly for a moment, closing her eyes until the dizzying sensation passed. Her date very ‘helpfully’ held her closer, which she honestly didn’t mind, but enough was enough; _We’re not bonded yet and I can’t let him take advantage of me._

_Nor do I want to come off as a simpering damsel in distress type. Ever._

Ginny pushed against his chest and his arms opened up instantly – _thank Merlin he has some sense, I'd hate to have to break his nose just when things are getting interesting –_ and she took a step back to look around. Aside from the trees, behind her was a very large yew hedge that ran in a perfectly straight line through the forest, giving the impression that the trees had grown around the wall. “Where are we?”

“More or less behind my home.”

“Oh.” _I have no idea why he’d bring me here, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough._

She was right, as Draco continued to explain. “I can’t enter the grounds or the wards will alert my father to my presence, but what I need for our date can come out without tripping the wards since they’re basically free to wander as they please. They know where their source of easy food comes from, though, so they tend to stay near the Manor.”

“They?”

He flashed a mischievous grin and then pursed his lips to make one of the loudest whistles she’d ever heard that hadn’t been assisted by magic.

Nothing happened except that the forest around them fell shockingly silent for a few seconds as all of the unseen creatures within froze.

“Now what?” she asked dryly after the forest resumed its rustling and roughly ten more seconds of waiting that felt so much longer than that.

“Just wait, princess. It’ll be worth it. The Manor house is a few miles from here. You have to give them time.”

“And you didn’t Apparate us closer to the front of the property because…”

“The peacocks.” he answered matter-of-factly, as if that made any sense whatsoever. “More than decorations.”

Ginny chose not to enquire further lest she didn't like the answer.

Despite the dubious explanations, she waited as instructed. _Maybe now’s a good time to start Twenty Questions?_

Before she could ask anything though, she heard the sound of beating wings. Looking up at the sky, a flock of dots grew larger and larger until they clarified into a herd of winged horses, glowing white or gleaming black against the cloud-dotted blue sky. Draco was also glowing with visible happiness as he watched them approach.

_The Malfoys have a herd of pegasi?! But they’re notoriously picky about who they’ll belong to, only willingly staying with owners who love them!_

She backed up to the hedge as a dozen full grown horses – looking like chess pieces in their colouring – surrounded Draco and all sought his attention with nickers and wuffles. She soon couldn’t even see him anymore beyond the magical creatures - their wings and large back ends blocking her view - but she could hear him, and he was proving unequivocally that he was in fact more than capable of loving something other than himself.

“Who’s my pretties?” he cooed. “Did you miss me? I know, I know, I was away for much too long again, but I’m back now.” Chuckles drifted past the sound of soft noses ruffling his clothes. “I’m sorry! I didn’t bring treats! But I promise I’ll have some for you tomorrow. No! Stop! There’s nothing in that pocket but my bookbag! It’s not a treat! Zeus! Give that back! I need that… Ah, fuck it. It’s all yours. I don’t want that back now. But it’s just parchment and books and quills and ink. Not very tasty, I’m sure. Oh? You thought it was? All right. But if you have a stomachache later, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Ginny giggled as the horse snorted loudly, his long black mane flying up into the air as the pegasus shook his head in disagreement.

Hearing her, or at least remembering that she existed, Draco pushed his way out of his equine prison and held out his hand to her as the pegasi all turned and faced her too. His eyes gleamed in the sunlight with a pure joy she never would have thought he’d be able to feel. “Come,” he said. “Come meet my real friends.”

Ginny reached forward and took his hand, letting herself be pulled towards the beautiful beasts. Their large, liquid brown eyes studied her with more intelligence than she’d ever seen in a horse. (Not that she’d seen many horses up close and personal, but she’d seen a few in London.) They also managed to appear a hundred times friendlier than the thestrals that pulled the school carriages while still looking like something one shouldn’t mess with.

“It’s all right,” Draco reassured as he lifted her hand towards the nose of a white one that had a shimmering silver mane and forelock cascading around its head in long waves. If a horse could look like a Malfoy, then this one did. “This is Apollo. He was Mother’s favourite. He’s been sad since she died. Maybe you could be his friend.”

Glancing at the solemn look on Draco’s face and then at the pegasus wearing the same look (how that was even possible, she had no idea), Ginny could only nod as she reached the last few inches to touch Apollo’s soft nose. “Of course. I would love to be your friend,” she told the horse, looking into his eyes and losing her heart to him instantly when the brown depths lit up.

She stroked the long, silky bridge of Apollo’s nose in wonder, already enchanted by the sense of warmth and peace that radiated from the pegasus.

Draco introduced her to the other horses, and while she noticed that they all had Greek names and they were all of the male gender, she gave most of her attention to Apollo, her hands never leaving his head as they learned each other. (When he was done sniffing her all over, she discovered that he liked having his ears rubbed, and his eyes nearly rolled up when she scratched him under the chin.) Apollo had his head hanging heavily over her shoulder as she petted his neck by the time Draco turned his attention fully back to her. The boy beamed at them. “I thought you two might get on like that. Apollo is definitely a girls horse.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Ginny asked, narrowing her eyes slightly in warning, already feeling protective of ‘her’ horse.

Draco chuckled, holding his hands up. “Nope. Not a thing.” As the black one called Zeus possessively claimed his own spot over Draco’s shoulder, staring at her is if the equine could see her soul, the Slytherin boy asked the one question she would never say no to even if she were puking sick or possessed of two broken limbs. Wearing a cross between his hopeful and mischievous looks, he asked, “Would you like to go flying, princess?”

* * *

**A/N: It had been my intention to write the entirety of their date in this chapter, but we're already at 4000+ words and I know I'm only half done after 2 days of working on it, soooooooo, yep. 2 chapters it is so I can move on to the next story in my crazy list of WIPs. :D**


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